


If You Told Me To

by positivelystisaac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelystisaac/pseuds/positivelystisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles and Isaac argue about music, get drunk, hook up and not much else.</p><p>Isaac Lahey has a problem. Well, two problems to be exact. First being that he had just been in the car with probably the most annoying person on the planet for well over two hours. Second being that he had spent those long hours basically undressing said person with his eyes. His problem goes by the name of Stiles Stilinski, and he is the most infuriating person Isaac has ever met. Sorting out his feelings about Stiles isn't exactly easy. But Isaac has always been up for a challenge, and Stiles has always been up for a good hook up. </p><p>[Each chapter is based off of a different line in a certain song. At completion, the fic will tell the story of the song & vice versa. The song for this story is If You Told Me To by Hunter Hayes.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

\---

"i’ve been searching for something true, my heart says it must be you"  
\--- 

Isaac Lahey wanted to die. There was nothing on earth that had ever caused Isaac to crave the sweet release of death quite like the perpetual hell he was currently enduring. Sitting shotgun in Stiles Stilinski’s old blue jeep for nearly three hours had left his butt numb and his head ready to explode. In the back seats were Scott and Allison, who were having serious trouble keeping their hands off of each other. On top of that, Stiles had gotten them lost numerous times, and he was playing terrible music. Not to mention singing along quite loudly and quite pitchy. Yet, Isaac still found it difficult to actually be angry at the driver. 

They were on their way to meet Lydia at her family’s “cabin” upstate for the weekend. They all jumped at the opportunity to get away from Beacon Hills for a couple of days, and surprisingly their respective guardians granted permission. The drive was only supposed to be an hour, but it took Stiles nearly two before he realized he was driving south on the freeway, not north. Never before had Isaac had such a strong urge to wrap his hands around another person’s neck and squeeze the life right out. Yet, at the same time, Isaac wanted to take his hands, and instead, pin Stiles against a wall and kiss the hell out of him. 

They were approaching the third hour in the godforsaken jeep when Isaac realized he had enough. “Seriously, man? The Strokes? Everyone knows The Killers beat The Strokes any day,” Isaac says. Stiles turns down the music and looks at Isaac like he’s crazy. 

"That’s a joke, right?" Stiles raises his eyebrows.

"Not a chance. Nothing The Strokes have ever done or will ever do could possibly beat Hot Fuss," Isaac argues. 

"Are you high?" Stiles practically shouts. 

"Are you?" Isaac asks. Stiles begins laughing, smacking the steering wheel through his giggles. 

"You seriously want me to believe that The Killers… THE KILLERS… are better than The Strokes. THE STROKES, Isaac," Stiles says with a grin. 

"You seriously want me to believe that The Strokes… THE STROKES… are better than The Killers. THE KILLERS, Stiles," Isaac replies, mocking Stiles. Isaac can’t help but notice the way Stiles’ eyes light up when he laughs. 

"You’re crazy!" Stiles argues.

"You have no taste!" Isaac shoots back. 

"How’s that?"

"You listen to bad music!" Isaac says. 

Stiles sighs in exasperation. “Here, take the wheel,” he tells Isaac, taking his eyes off the road and his hands off the wheel to dig around in his glove compartment for something. “Stiles!” Isaac shouts, grabbing the wheel as the car almost drifts off the road. He jerks it back on track, leaning across the center console to get a good grip on the wheel. 

Stiles is practically laying in Isaac’s lap as he rifles through the random junk in his glove box. “Stiles, what the hell?” Isaac demands, as Stiles still hasn’t sat up. “Stiles?” Scott chimes in from the back. 

"Got it!" Stiles says, sitting up with a CD case and dropping it on the dashboard. He takes the wheel from Isaac, feeling a spark of something when their fingers brush against each other. Stiles can feel the blush creeping onto his face.

It’s weird- Stiles always knew he had a thing for Lydia. He would do anything to impress her; he lived for those rare moments when she would talk to him. But when he met Isaac, he realized he had the same thing for him, if not more so. Stiles never told anyone. Not that he didn’t want to come out- if he was in fact gay- but because he didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment of having a second one-sided crush if it turned out Isaac didn’t return his feelings. And there was a good chance- Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way Isaac looked at Allison. Stiles had to admit- he was relieved when Scott and Allison got back together. He pretended not to notice the disappointed look on Isaac’s face when he found out. 

Scott had been too busy with Allison lately to wonder why Stiles didn’t talk about Lydia anymore and to question why Stiles forced the two of them to sit in the back seat on their trip. The answer, of course, was Isaac. Stiles was relieved that Scott hadn’t figured anything out yet, but he was a little bothered that his best friend didn’t notice anything was different. 

Isaac reaches for the CD on the dashboard. “Stiles, you could have killed us!” he protests. He opens the case and sees it’s a CD that Stiles must have burned himself. The word MUSIC is scrawled across the top of the blank CD in Stiles’ familiar chicken scratch.

"Please," Stiles argues. "We were fine! You had it under control," he adds. 

"What is this?" Isaac asks, holding up the disc. "Put it in and find out!" Stiles says with a smirk. Isaac’s cheeks begin to burn when he meets Stiles’ eyes. He drops his gaze and busies himself putting the CD into the old radio. It takes forever for the disc to be read, but when the loud whirring finally stops, Isaac turns up the volume, smiling as he hears the familiar opening beats of Mr. Brightside. 

"I’m shocked," he admits with a laugh.

"See? I do have taste. According to your standards, anyway," Stiles says. They sit in silence for the rest of the song, but it’s a comfortable silence. And Stiles isn’t singing. It was cute when he first started singing three hours ago, but after the first few minutes, Isaac had grown sick of it and was relieved to be able to listen to one of his favorite songs in peace. He glanced over at Stiles, who was tapping his fingers on the wheel along to the beat. Occasionally, he would mouth some of the words. When he caught Isaac looking at him, he flashed a wide grin. 

Isaac would never admit it, but he has the biggest crush on Stiles. Calling it a crush seemed so juvenile, but it is what it is. At first, he liked Allison. But he soon realized it was just physical attraction. Not that he wasn’t okay with that, because he totally was. But, when he was with Stiles, he felt something on a deeper level.

Still, he is infuriated by Stiles. He’s annoying, childish, and waaaaay too energetic. Yet, at the same time, he’s clever, smart, charming, funny, kind and incredibly loyal. Simply stated, Stiles is an enigma. Isaac is okay with that, though. When it comes down to it, Isaac know he’s attracted to Stiles, and that is also something he’s okay with. He can’t help the blush that creeps on his face sometimes, or the way his heart skips a beat once in a while. He’s grown used to it, and he’s okay with it. 

Of course, he’s too scared to ever tell Stiles how he fee;s, especially since everyone and their mother know about Stiles’ undying love for Lydia. People already think Isaac’s gay, thanks to that scarf he wore once, so it isn’t a matter of coming out. That doesn’t scare Isaac. Rejection scares Isaac. He thought about just pursuing Allison, but then Scott and Allison got back together. It was then that Isaac realized his thing for Stiles was real, seeing as it took only a day or two before Isaac was over Allison . 

It wasn’t just that Isaac was envious of Stiles’ hair and smile and body, but that he was attracted to it. And the person behind it, nonetheless. There’s something about the other boy that Isaac couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it is, it’s enough to make him forget he was ever attracted to Allison, and it’s what makes Isaac stare just a little longer than he should have.

"What are you thinking about?" Stiles asks, focusing his attention back onto the road. The song changes. It’s All These Things I’ve Done. The Killers again. 

"Nothing," Isaac lies, lowering his gaze once more.

Stiles shrugs. He looks over his shoulder before signaling and taking the exit on their right. “Allison, do you know what to do now?” Stiles asks over his shoulder.

"Uh, one sec," she says, reaching for her phone. She pulls up Lydia’s text before answering. "She says to take the exit, then make the first right. Turn left at the first traffic light. Then, the house is a little less than thirteen miles down that road. Number 1520," Allison says, reading off of the phone. Stiles obeys, taking the two turns. They come out of the second turn onto a wide, empty road. Huge, full trees line the road. Along with the setting sun, the view is amazing. The song switches again. It’s Human, by The Killers. "Three for three," Isaac notes. Stiles nods. 

"I told you, my taste is good!" 

"How come The Strokes aren’t on this CD?" Isaac asks. 

"I dunno, this is just a Killers mix I made a couple of weeks back," Stiles replies. 

"You’d cheat on The Strokes like that?" Isaac asks jokingly. 

"Shhhh. Don’t tell!" Stiles laughs. They’re the only car on the road, which is both cool and a little eerie. "Wanna have some fun?" Stiles asks after a second. 

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Isaac replies. His heartbeat quickens in excitement. He begs it to slow down before Scott notices and says something. He steals a glance in the rear view mirror and sees that Allison and Scott are whispering about something, hands interlocked. He looks away when the car jerks forward as Stiles brakes- and he brakes hard. "Stiles!" Isaac protests. His seat belt locks in place, thankfully keeping him from smashing into the dashboard. Stiles revs the engine with a laugh. Isaac is suddenly reminded of his earlier annoyance with the boy next to him. 

"Stiles, seriously?" Scott groans from the back sear. Stiles grins childishly as he stomps on the accelerator. The car flies forward, everyone but Stiles yelling in protest. Stiles’ laugh is louder than everyone’s shouts, as he hits 80 miles an hour. He’s about to hit 90 when Allison screams. "OH MY GOD, STOP!" she protests, clutching Scott’s hand for dear life. 

"What?" Stiles asks. 

"Stop!" she repeats. 

"Whatever you say," he says, braking suddenly. His tires squeal in protest as the car comes to a stop. 

"Seriously, man, enough!" Scott says. 

"Just go, Stiles. Lydia has been expecting us for the past two hours, come on!" Allison adds. 

"Go?" he asks. 

"Yes!" she shouts in exasperation. "But safely!" she adds. But it’s too late, because Stiles has floored it once more, the engine grinding loudly as he accelerates. Isaac watches the speedometer. 50…60…70…80…90…92…94…

"Stiles!" Isaac speaks up as the needle crosses over into the triple digits. 

"What?" Stiles asks through his giddy laughter. 

"You need to sto- I mean, slow down!" Isaac responds, choosing his words carefully. 

"Nah, I’m good. Besides, you said you were up for some fun!" Stiles argues.

"You are absolutely infuriating. Just slow down!"

"Nah,"

"Seriously, slow down," Isaac says, much more authoritatively. 

"You okay?" Stiles asks.

"No," Isaac says, shaking his head. Both of his hands are clutching the arm rests on his seat. His knuckles are pure white, and he can feel the color draining from his face. Surprisingly, Stiles shifts to the brake, slowing down carefully until he’s back around 40 miles an hour. 

"What’s wrong?" Stiles asks. He looks nervous, and a little regretful. Isaac’s annoyance subsides almost instantly with one look at Stiles’ worried face. 

"You’re about to give me a heart attack, not to mention the other two," Isaac says. One look at Scott and Allison confirms this. Their hands are interlocked in fear, their eyes wide. Allison looks like she’s about to throw up, and Scott looks like he wouldn’t be too far behind her. 

"Oh, shit. Sorry, sorry." Stiles runs a hand through his hair nervously.

"It’s okay, just… I don’t know. Just take it easy for the rest of the way, yeah?" Issac says. Stiles nods. The remaining few minutes of their trip are spent in silence, but that’s fine with Isaac. As they pull up to the house, Lydia comes out into the driveway to greet them. 

"Everyone alive?" she asks with a laugh. 

"You don’t know the half of it," Allison says, glaring at Stiles as they all get out of the car. Isaac can’t help but notice how good it is to regain feeling in his butt. He stretches before walking over to the trunk to help Stiles unload everyone’s stuff. 

Stiles opens the trunk of the jeep to reveal a few bags of everyone’s respective things and a few cases of beer, plus a bag with a couple of bottles of hard stuff. “How did you get this?” Isaac asks with a laugh, unloading the alcohol. Stiles and his baby face can barely pass for 17, let alone 21. 

"Derek, who else?" Stiles replies. Isaac laughs, feeling a little stupid for even asking. He should have known. 

"Well, let’s bring your stuff inside. We’ve got a bunch of extra bedrooms, so claim whatever one you want. just make a left when you go in and they’re right up the stairs," Lydia says, slipping out of Aiden’s arm to open the door for the boys. Isaac finds it kind funny how Lydia’s family’s “cabin” is easily twice the size of Scott’s house. Not that he’s complaining, though. From the looks of it, the weekend should be a pretty good one.


	2. Chapter Two

\---  
"I’d love to fall and see it through"  
\---

Isaac follows Lydia inside the house. They walk into the kitchen, where Isaac puts the liquor down on the marble counter top. Aiden is behind Isaac with the rest of it. “Aiden, can you put this in the freezer downstairs?” Lydia says, handing him a few bottles of hard liquor. He nods and opens up the basement door, right off of the kitchen.

"The freezer?" Stiles chimes in, stumbling inside with two duffel bags in each hand. 

"Yeah. The freezing point for hard stuff is super low, so it won’t freeze. But it will get really cold," Isaac explains, taking the bags from him. 

"Ohhhh," Stiles muses, stretching his wrists. Scott comes in right behind him, concentrated on his phone. "You good?" Stiles asks, gesturing to Scott’s phone. 

"Yeah, just letting my mom know we’re here and stuff," Scott responds, locking the phone and slipping it into his back pocket. 

"So any room works?" Scott asks, looking up.

"Yeah, wherever you want! Aiden and I are down the hall all the way on the left, so anything else is fine," Lydia replies.

"Sweet. Where’s Allison?" Scott asks.

"Right here," Allison says, walking into the room. She walks up to Scott, and he wraps his arms around her. "I like the view from the room all the way on the right. Wanna share?" she asks, smiling up at him.

"Of course," Scott replies, leaning in for a kiss. Stiles makes a point to make a disgusted sound. 

"You sicken me," Stiles adds, reaching for his bag. 

"You’re just bitter you’re single in a house of couples!" Scott says with a laugh, pulling Allison even closer.

"Fuck off, Scott!" Stiles says, sticking up his middle finger as he walks out with his bag to find a room. He heads into the hallway of bedrooms and counts five. If Scott and Allison have one and Lydia and Aiden have the other, that means Ethan and Danny can share and there will be still be enough that Isaac can take a room, and Stiles doesn’t have to share. Perfect, Stiles thinks.

While always accommodating, Stiles does like his alone time. Especially with all the kinky shit that’s bound to be happening this weekend, he’s glad to be on his own. Nothing says awkward like platonic-bed-sharing in a house of couples and their couple-y nighttime activities. Especially if the walls turn out to be as thin as they look. Stiles opens the closest door, expecting the room to be vacant. Instead, Isaac is sitting on the edge of the bed, focusing on something on his phone. 

"Oh, sorry," Stiles apologizes. 

"It’s cool," Isaac says, locking his phone and dropping it on the bed beside him. "What’s everyone up to?" he asks. 

"Just getting settled. Unpacking. Hooking up. You know, the usual," Stiles remarks. Isaac smiles. He can’t help but focus on Stiles’ lips. The way the corners sneak up into a smirk, the way his tongue darts out to lick them after he finishes his sentence. 

"The room across the hall is free still," Isaac says after a minute.

Stiles nods, fixated on Isaac’s fingers. Long and delicate, they tangle themselves in the strings of Isaac’s hoodie. ”Thanks. I’ll, uh, go claim that now I guess,” he says awkwardly. As soon as he closes the door behind him, Isaac drops his hands from his sweatshirt strings and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. Letting his body fall back onto the bed, he stares up at the white ceiling. 

Stiles closes the door to his own room, pressing his back against it and taking a deep, shaky breath. Okay, so it’s not just something about Isaac. It’s everything about Isaac. His eyes, his smile, his laugh, his fucking fingers, for god sake. Stiles takes another shaky breath, rubbing his eyes. He exhales slowly, picking his bag up off of the floor and bringing it to the bed. He tosses his keys on the bedside table with a jangle. Sighing, he unzips his bag and digs out his phone charger. After finally locating it at the very bottom of his bag, he zips the bag back up, tossing it onto the floor next to the bed. 

He grabs his phone and charger and opens his door. The open floor plan of Lydia’s cabin makes it super easy for Stiles to see Allison straddle Scott’s lap from his spot in the kitchen. He plugs in his phone in a nearby outlet, trying to block out the image of his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend basically dry humping each other on the couch in the next room. 

He sits on a stool at the breakfast bar and checks twitter, facebook and instagram. Then, he all but loses himself in Candy Crush, using all 5 of his lives attempting the same level. 

"Stiles, want to do me a favor?" Lydia asks, walking into the room as he’s about to buy more lives. 

"Uh, not really. It depends," Stiles replies, looking up from his phone. He can’t help but notice the look of surprise on her face at his answer. Probably because just a few weeks ago, he would have eagerly obliged, no matter what the request. 

"Can you run out and get ice? I meant to stop on the way up here but I forgot. I’d go myself but I want to be here when Ethan and Danny get here," Lydia says. Stiles jumps at the opportunity to get out of the cabin-from-single-boy-hell. 

"Yeah, no problem. Where should I go?" 

Lydia appears surprised once again, this time probably because his original answer led her to low expectations. “Uh, the closest thing is a convenience store like fifteen minutes away. Just make a right out of the driveway and stay straight on the road. You can’t miss it, but it’s like twelve miles away or something like that.” 

"Okay," he says, unplugging his phone and slipping it into his back pocket. 

"One sec," she says, reaching into her purse and digging around for her wallet. She finds it and pulls out a crisp twenty. She presses it into Stiles’ hand. "Here. Three bags should be good. Keep the change," she adds. Stiles nods, taking his charger out of the wall.

"Roger that," he says, pocketing the money. "I’ll go grab my keys."

"Stiles?" she asks as he walks toward his room. 

"Yeah?" he turns around. 

"Uh, thanks." Lydia looks a little uncomfortable, something Stiles isn’t used to. 

"Oh, um, no problem," he says, heading to his bedroom. He grabs his keys off of the bedside table and drops his phone charger on the bed.  
For some reason, he’s feeling bold all of a sudden. Maybe it’s that he just had his first one-on-one interaction with Lydia without having any feelings towards her. Or maybe, it’s that he’s beginning to accept that what he feels towards Isaac is more than he originally thought. Either way, he finds himself knocking on Isaac’s closed door. 

Isaac opens the door, breath hitching when he sees Stiles on the other side. "Wanna go for a ride?" Stiles asks, holding up his keys with a grin. 

"God, yes. Get me out of here," Isaac says, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind himself. 

"Ahh, we have a lot in common," Stiles notes as they walk through the living room and Isaac rolls his eyes at Allison and Scott. They get in the car, and it takes a few tries before the old blue jeep stops sputtering and finally turns on. Stiles revs the engine, earning a look from Isaac. “Okay, sorry!” Stiles says, buckling his seat belt and shifting the car into reverse. 

Once they’re on the road, Isaac speaks up. “I have a confession to make,” he says. 

"What’s that?" Stiles asks, intrigued. 

"I really like The Strokes."

"I KNEW IT!" Stiles shouts, snapping his fingers and pointing at Isaac excitedly. "Why’d you lie, Isaac?" he says with a laugh.

"I didn’t lie! I’m not a liar! i just….withheld information."

"Right, right. So you like The Strokes like I like The Killers?" Stiles asks. 

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’ll always be partial to The Killers, but there’s no denying that The Strokes can kill it any day of the week."

"Favorite Strokes song. On three. One…two…three-"

"Last Nite" they both say in unison. 

"No way!" Stiles shouts excitedly. "Okay, Killers on three. One…two…three-"

"Mr. Brightside" they say at the same time.

"I knew I liked you!" Stiles says in excitement. Isaac feels his face getting red. He begs himself not to let Stiles’ comment go to his head, but all he can think about is how fucking great it would be to lean over and kiss the other boy. Just pull the emergency brake, grab Stiles’ face in his hands, and just kiss the shit out of him. He’d run his hands through Stiles’ hair and Stiles would do the same to him, tugging on the ends of his curls. 

"Why did you come this weekend?" Isaac asks, trying to guide his thoughts elsewhere. 

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"I dunno. Just that we just got here and you’re miserable. I mean, I am too, so no judgement there. But why did you think it was a good idea to come?" Isaac says, absentmindedly twirling the strings of his sweatshirt.

"Why did you?" Stiles says, spinning the question. 

"Honestly?" Isaac asks. Stiles nods. "Scott was going and that would have meant I would be alone in his house with just his mom and that’s just awkward. I figured I might as well tag along here," Isaac says, realizing how dumb it sounds. 

"And you chose this over staying with Derek?" Stiles asks. Isaac nods. "Can’t say I blame you."

"Well, the last time I stayed there I was told I was not welcome back."

"What happened?" Stiles is thoroughly intrigued.

"It’s a long story. One for another time," Isaac says. As he recalls the events of that night, he knows it’s one of those things better left unsaid. "But on to you," he says to Stiles. "Why are you here?"

"I dunno. I figured it would be a good way to just get away from everything. There’s been too much going on. I just wanted to get away, and I guess I figured even if it sucked, I’d rather have a shit weekend away from everything than have a shit weekend in Beacon Hills. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," Isaac says as they pull into the gravel parking lot of the convenience store. Maybe it’s being alone with Stiles. Maybe it’s getting to know him just a little better. Or, maybe it’s the way Stiles somehow just summed up Isaac’s exact feelings when describing his own. Whatever it is, Isaac knows he feels something. He can’t place it, but he knows it’s serious. 

They head in and get the ice that Lydia asked for. Stiles can’t help but notice the way Isaac’s teeth grit and the way his eyes glint when he Stiles stacks the bags of ice on the other boy’s arms. Lydia asked for three bags, but Stiles got four, just in case. Stiles is both surprised and impressed that Isaac carries all four bags without complaint. He won’t even let Stiles carry them when he offers. 

They load the ice into the back of Stiles’ jeep and head back to Lydia’s. There’s not much talking on the way back to the house, but it’s a comfortable silence. Stiles rolls the windows down, relishing in the feeling of the fresh air on his face. When they pull up, Danny’s car is in the driveway and Ethan is coming out of the front door.  
"Watch this," Stiles says. "Ethan, hey! Can you give us a hand?" he calls. Ethan nods and walks over to the car. Right as he’s walking in front of the car, Stiles sticks his arm through the open window and leans on the horn. Ethan jumps, startled, and the sound of the horn is replaced with the sound of Stiles’ laughter. Isaac knows what’s going to happen before he sees it. Ethan’s eyes glow a dark amber as he glares at Stiles, and he smashes a closed fist on the hood of the jeep, letting out a loud growl. Stiles jumps and lets out a startled noise as Isaac darts in front of him instinctively, standing in between the two guys. His back to Stiles, Isaac slowly walks backwards, gently pushing Stiles a little further out of Ethan’s path. Not that he thinks Ethan would actually hurt Stiles, but because on off chance that he tries to, Isaac wants to be the one to take the hit.

"Don’t," Isaac says, glaring at Ethan. "It was just a joke."

"Fuck you, Stilinski," Ethan growls, stalking off. 

"What the hell is going on?" Scott yells, running out of the house, the others close behind him. 

"Nothing," Ethan says, walking past them into the house, where Danny is waiting. 

"Isaac?" Scott asks, looking for an explanation.

"It’s nothing," Isaac says, still in front of Stiles protectively. 

"Okay. Whatever," Scott says, turning and returning inside, the others following suit. 

"Thanks," Stiles says, his heart still racing. Maybe it’s from the way Ethan scared him. Maybe it’s from the close proximity to Isaac and the way his back was just pushed against Stiles’ chest protectively. Maybe it’s both, but Stiles thinks it’s the latter. He can’t help but notice how badly he wants to kiss Isaac. Right then and there. Just grab his hips and push him up against his jeep. He’d run his hands through Isaac’s golden curls, push the bottom of his shirt up so he could run his hands over the other boy’s toned stomach. They’d-

"For?" Isaac asks, walking over to the trunk, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts.

"Uhh, handling that, I guess," Stiles replies, joining him. 

"Anytime," Isaac says, feeling the heat of his blush on his face. He quickly busies himself with unloading the ice, so that Stiles can’t see the way his pale cheeks are burning red. Isaac is finally able to place the feeling from earlier. He’s falling for Stiles. Not in a stupid, crush like way. But in a serious, see it through, more-than-just-a-one-time-hook-up type of falling for him. 

They bring the ice inside, where Lydia is waiting in the kitchen. “Isaac, put yours in this freezer. Stiles, you can put yours downstairs, okay?” she says. They both nod and do as she says. Eventually, everyone winds up in the kitchen together. Lydia orders a ton of food and they stand around, talking and drinking as they wait.  
Eventually, the food arrives and everyone eats and drinks together. Once they finish eating, the fun begins as they turn on some music and the boys convince Allison and Lydia each shotgun a beer for the first time. Before long, the case of beers is almost gone. Lydia turns to face Isaac, eyes wide. “Isaac!” she says, already almost drunk. Isaac knew she was a lightweight, but two beers? That had to be a new record for her. 

"Yeah?" Isaac replies. 

"Will you go get the good stuff from downstairs? I have to find Aiden. There’s vodka and rum, bring it all up, okay?" 

"Sure," Isaac replies. It’s not like he has much else to do. 

Ten minutes later, Stiles taps Scott on the shoulder. "Where’s Isaac?" he asks Scott. Unsurprisingly, Stiles is already buzzed. Not as bad as Lydia, but a close second. Scott shrugs. Stiles moves on, repeating his question to Allison, then Danny, neither of who know where Isaac went.  
"Lydia, where’s Isaac?" Stiles asks. 

"He went to the basement like forever ago to get more drinks from the freezer, but I haven’t seen him since. And mama needs a drink!” she shouts the last part, shoving her empty cup in Stiles’ face to help him understand. 

"Shit, are you kidding?" Stiles asks. Even on the border of being drunk, Stiles knows no good could have come from sending Isaac to both a freezer and a small space. 

"Nuh-uh. Whyyyyy?" Lydia asks. 

"I saw that freezer earlier. It’s exactly like the one his dad used to-" Stiles begins to explain. Rather than finish his sentence, Stiles sets down his cup and runs towards the basement door. Lydia follows him, but he waves her off. "Let me take care of this. Just don’t let anyone else know what’s up, yeah?" he says. She nods, backing off. Stiles’ head feels a little clouded from the alcohol, but still, he races down the stairs, his heart pounding loud enough that he can hear it in his ears.


	3. Chapter Three

\---  
"only if you told me to"  
\---

"Isaac?" Stiles calls nervously, looking around. The basement is dark, but he can see a beam of light poking out from under a partially closed door towards the back of the room. He recognizes it as the small room that he, himself was in earlier today, the room with the freezer. He quickly steps over the random junk in his path. "Isaac?" he repeats as he nears the room. There’s no response. 

"Isaac?" Stiles repeats, a bit frantically. His heart is just shy of beating out of chest as he imagines all the terrible things that Isaac could be thinking of. What’s worse is that he can’t get a response out of him. Stiles reaches the door and swings it open in a panic. "Isaac!" he sighs in relief when he sees the other boy sitting on the floor. 

He’s definitely not okay, Stiles can tell. Isaac is sitting with back against the wall and knees pulled close to his chest. He’s shaking and crying, hands on either side of his head. He looks up to meet Stiles’ eyes, and Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat. 

Stiles is probably the world’s biggest sympathy crier, especially if the person crying is someone Stiles is close to. Not that he and Isaac are as close as, say, Scott and Stiles, but he knows exactly how Isaac is feeling. “I….I can’t…” is all Isaac says through shaky breaths. Hot tears continue welling in his eyes, and he tries to blink them out of his vision. 

Stiles sits down next to Isaac, pulling his knees up like Isaac has. “You need to listen to me, Isaac,” he says. Isaac shakes his head furiously, breathing loud and fast. “Look at me,” Stiles tries instead. Isaac obeys. “You’re having a panic attack,” Stiles says. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he thinks of the last time he had a panic attack. At school, when Lydia kissed him to calm him down. He considers doing the same to Isaac- like he gives it serious thought. But he knows it’s best to try to talk him down from it. So, instead, he thinks of all of things that his dad has ever done to get him to come out of one before. 

While thinking, Stiles stretches his legs out in front of him and leans forward to get his phone out of his back pocket, where it’s causing him serious discomfort. Isaac panics, thinking Stiles is getting up to leave, and reaches out and grabs his arm. Stiles turns and places a hand on Isaac’s knee. 

"I’m right here. Not going anywhere, okay? Talk to me. What’s going on?" Stiles asks, head still a little numb from the booze. He keeps his hands on Isaac’s knee while he shuffles his position so he’s right in front of Isaac. Stiles pulls his legs to his chest, crossing his arms over their now-touching knees.

"I thought…. I just…. I thought…. I thought I could…. I didn’t think it would…. I didn’t….." Isaac manages to get out before looking down and resuming his heavy breathing. 

"Look at me, don’t stop looking at me," Stiles says. Isaac slowly nods after a minute, looking up at Stiles. "Talk it out," Stiles says. He’s hurting for Isaac. Not just in an sympathetic way, but in an emphatic one. Stiles knows more than anyone what it feels like to have an attack like this. Stiles knows the feeling of hundreds of knives stabbing into your lungs, the feeling of a dizzy head and tears that won’t stop. But it’s more than that. It’s one thing to go through it himself, but watching it happen to Isaac- seeing how badly he’s hurting, knowing what it takes to break someone to this point- Stiles is literally in pain. His stomach is in knots and his head is pain from the tears he’s trying so hard to keep inside. 

"I…. I didn’t know…. it…. it’s the same freezer…" Isaac says slowly, silent tears still streaming from his gray eyes. Stiles is about to start crying along with him, he can tell by the way his nostrils start to quiver. Isaac puts his head between his knees, back heaving with deep breaths. 

"Isaac," Stiles says, trying to keep his own emotions internalized. He gets no response. "Isaac. It’s you and me, that’s it. He’s gone. You’re safe," Stiles says, taking Isaac’s face in his hands, making direct eye contact. "You're safe, Isaac. You are," Stiles repeats. Isaac makes no response, but holds eye contact with Stiles. Stiles notices that his breathing is slowing down.

"That’s it. Good," Stiles encourages Isaac. "Think about everything great. Think about… I don’t know….the pack! Think about the pack! And think about the trip this weekend, and how shitfaced we can get tonight! And think about Mrs. McCall’s brownies, and how great fresh bagels smell, and The Killers! Think about how The Killers are way better than The Strokes.”

Isaac’s breathing has returned to normal, the corners of his mouth even lifting into a small smile at Stiles’ words. Stiles’ hands are still on Isaac’s face, but neither of them move to change that. Stiles even uses his thumbs to wipe the tears from Isaac’s face. Neither of them say anything, but they don’t have to. 

Stiles can’t help but think of how perfect it would be to kiss Isaac. Right here, right now. Just pull him closer and do it. He’s about to when they hear the sound of the basement door opening. “Guys, you find that alcohol?” it sounds like Lydia’s voice. 

"Yeah, be up in a sec!" Stiles says, quickly removing his hands from Isaac’s face and standing up.

Stiles offers Isaac a hand, which he gladly accepts. Without hesitation, Isaac wraps his arms around Stiles. Not in a bro hug type of way, either. In a real hug. Isaac has easily a few inches on Stiles, so Stiles rests his head on Isaac’s chest and wraps his arms around him. “Thank you,” Isaac murmurs. He can’t help but think of how badly he wants Stiles. He wants sweet Stiles and funny Stiles and stupid Stiles. He just wants him, all of him.

Stiles really wants to kiss him or profess his feelings or say anything to let Isaac know how much he cares about him. Instead, he steps back from Isaac’s embrace and settles for the much more platonic “Any time.” 

"Wait by the stairs, yeah?" Stiles adds. Isaac nods,and Stiles opens the freezer to grab the alcohol. He can’t help but notice the chill that goes up his spine, and he knows it isn’t from the cold. He walks out to where Isaac is waiting, and hands him a couple of the bottles he has managed to stack in his arms. 

Isaac notices for the first time the shirt Stiles is wearing. It’s one of his dad’s old police academy tee shirts, with “Stillinski” embroidered across the left chest. Isaac can’t help but wonder how that second L got in there, and if Stiles has ever noticed. He shakes the thought from his head and exchanges it for the thought of how the shirt fits him perfectly, hugging his torso just enough to show his toned stomach. The sleeves are tight on his biceps, but just the right amount. Isaac can’t help but admire as they walk up the stairs and join the others like nothing happened. 

-

Much later that night, both Stiles and Isaac have had a few more than a few too many drinks. Everyone else has gone “to sleep”, but Stiles is still up cleaning up cups and cans. Isaac practically Stiles in the kitchen when he comes in from the living room. “Stiiiiiiles,” he all but slurs, backing Stiles up against the counter. 

"Isaaaaac," Stiles replies with a laugh. 

"I wanna say thanks," Isaac says. Stiles can smell the liquor on his breath, and can feel the heat radiating from his skin. 

"I wanna say you’re welcome," Stiles says, taking a sip from his cup. 

"Where’s everyone else?" Isaac asks, forgetting momentarily. 

"They went to beeeeeeed," Stiles says, dragging out the last word. Isaac smiles before leaning in and pressing a kiss against Stiles’ lips. Stiles is in shock. He freezes for a second before coming to his senses and kissing Isaac back. 

Isaac grabs Stiles’ hips, just as Stiles’ fingers make their way into Isaac’s hair. Kissing each other like nothing either of them has ever experienced. Isaac pulls back for a breath and Stiles moves to his neck, sucking at the skin and causing chills to run over Isaac’s body. “Jump,” Isaac growls in Stiles’ ear. Stiles obeys, and in one quick motion, Isaac grabs his ass and lifts him up so he’s sitting on the counter. Stiles is breathing heavily, wrapping his arms around Isaac’s neck and kissing him long and hard. Isaac moans, stepping between Stiles’ legs.

Stiles can feel himself getting hard, but he wraps his legs around Isaac’s back, deepening the kiss even more. Isaac’s breath hitches in his throat as Stiles tugs on one of his curls. Isaac, pressing kisses along Stiles’ neck, can feel himself growing against the counter, but he doesn’t care. He reaches for the hem of Stiles’ shirt, pushing it up to reveal Stiles’ toned stomach. Playing first line really whipped him into shape, something both boys are thankful for. 

"Arms up," Isaac commands. Once again, Stiles obeys, and Isaac all but rips the shirt off of him.   
"You," is all Stiles says between kisses, but Isaac understands. He lifts his arms as Stiles pulls his shirt off. Hands are everywhere- on faces, stomachs and necks. Fingers are in hair and tugging hard. They can’t get enough of each other. Stiles wants Isaac now more than ever, and in more ways than just one. 

Isaac is just about the same- his respect for Lydia and her family’s kitchen the only thing keeping him from doing some pretty obscene things with Stiles right here and now. “More,” Stiles breathes between kisses. Isaac understands, lifting Stiles off the counter, his legs still around Isaac’s back. 

Just then, a door opens down the hallway. “Shit,” Isaac whispers, placing Stiles back on the counter. They both scramble for their shirts, getting them on just in time for Danny to walk into the kitchen. 

"Hey guys," he says, grabbing a cup and filling it with water at the sink. 

"Hey," Isaac and Stiles say simultaneously as Stiles jumps off of the counter. Thankfully, Danny’s eyes don’t wander south, or else they would have a bit of explaining to do. 

"Well, g’night," Danny says, heading back down the hallway with his water. Once he’s in his room, Isaac looks over at Stiles. 

"We can’t," Stiles says. Isaac feels the same way.

"Too close. Way, way, way too close," Isaac replies, rubbing his pounding head.

"I… I think we should just call it a night," Stiles says. Isaac nods in agreement.

"Wait, can I just tell you something?" Isaac asks with a small laugh. Stiles nods eagerly. "I didn’t just do that cause I’m drunk. I know I’m totally gone, trust me. But… I just…. I want you, Stiles. But only if you want me too. It feels right," Isaac says. He realizes he sounds a little ridiculous, pouring out his feelings to Stiles after only hooking up once. Regardless, the alcohol wins and he can’t control his words, so he continues. "I’ll do this again. I want you, but only if you tell me to want you. Otherwise, we can just blame it on the-"

"I want you to. Want me, that is. I want you, so you better want me," Stiles says, grabbing Isaac’s arm. Isaac can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the two of them sound. Yet, he knows what they’re telling each other is genuine. He grins, grabbing his phone off of the counter behind Stiles. As he reaches for the phone, he leans in and kisses Stiles again. Long and lingering, Isaac still pulls away too soon. He walks down the hallway to his room, closing the door behind him. It’s only then that he realizes he’s wearing Stiles’ shirt.


	4. Chapter Four

\---  
"well, i’d run through the desert, i’d walk through the rain,"  
\---

If there’s one thing Stiles loves, it’s the moment right after waking up. When memory is still clouded by sleep, and for that moment, it’s a new day with no worries, and everything is perfect. This morning, it ceases to exist as Stiles wakes up with a dry throat and pounding head. He knew last night that he would regret all those drinks, but at the time it seemed worth it. He can tell it’s early, seeing as his room is still dark, but he hears people moving around the house. He wonders what time it is, and reaches for his phone. It’s barely seven. Ew, he thinks. He’ll never understand how the werewolves can get up so early and be ready to take on the day.

He’s always been one of those people who only wakes up once-no matte the time, if he wakes up, he can’t get back to sleep. Scott, however, could be woken up at 7:01 and back in REM sleep by 7:02. If not for the werewolf thing, that would definitely hold the number one spot on the list of things Stiles is jealous of.

Groaning, he sits up slowly, rubbing his stiff neck. He inhales sharply, pulling his hand away as he feels a shot of pain beneath his fingers. 

He brings two fingers to his neck tentatively, touching the same spot gently. As soon as his fingers make contact, the pain returns and Stiles pulls his hand back once more. More than a little hungover, he stumbles out of bed, head pounding, and into the bathroom. He closes the door behind himself and flips on the light. 

He wracks his brain for memories of last night, but everything is fuzzy. Fearing the worst, he stands in front of the mirror and pulls the collar of his shirt down to get a look at what’s causing the weird pain. All at once, memories from the night before pour into his aching brain as he reveals a dark purple hickey on the side of his neck. He remembers it all and everything’s coming up Isaac. 

Meanwhile, Isaac is just waking up. He’s always been an early riser, and even though he feels gross and hungover, he still feels well rested, even if it’s only seven in the morning, and he couldn’t have gotten more than five or six hours of sleep. Placing his feet on the floor, he stretches his arms above his head and rolls his neck a few times. The material of his shirt is too tight on his neck, and he feels like it’s strangling him all over. He looks down, only to see he’s wearing one of Stiles’ shirts. That would explain why it’s so tight, but what he can’t seem to figure out why he’s wearing it. 

Isaac squeezes his eyes shut, willing his hungover brain to remember what happened the night before. He’s not usually one to black out, but last night was the first time he ever drank nearly as much as he did. He inhales sharply when it all comes back. He remembers pushing Stiles up against the counter and the way they kissed. Ripping off Stiles’ shirt and running his hands all over him. Almost going further, but almost getting caught by Danny. He remembers Stiles tossing the shirt to him, and putting it on in a panic. 

He peels the shirt off of his chest, replacing it with a new one- one that fits. He hears someone knocking on the door next to his. “Stiles!” It’s Scott’s voice. Isaac listens closely, straining to hear through the closed door.

"We’re going to get food, wanna come?" asks Scott. 

"No, thanks," is all Stiles says. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just didn’t sleep well, gonna try to go back to bed probably," Stiles lies. He just doesn’t want to be stuck with the six sickening couples forever.

"Okay, man. We’re probably going to stop at a food store while we’re out so we don’t have to keep driving so far away every time we need something. Any requests?" 

"Nah, anything’s good. See you later, man."

Isaac hears the door close. A few seconds later, Scott knocks on Isaac’s door.

"Hear that?" Scott asks. Isaac nods. At least he can attribute it to his werewolfness (is that a thing? Isaac makes a note to ask Derek) and not his eavesdropping. 

"I’m good with whatever from the store," Isaac says.

"You don’t wanna come to breakfast?" Scott asks.

Isaac shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’m gonna pass. Not really into being that awkward seventh wheel. I’ll probably just go for a run and stuff,” Isaac says. 

"Okay, see you later," Scott says, pulling Isaac’s door closed and heading back down the hallway. Isaac assumes everyone was waiting on him, because he hears the door close behind Scott and then the sound of Lydia’s car pulling out of the driveway. He sits down on his bed, bringing his hands to his head and taking a deep breath. 

Eventually, he stands up and puts on a pair of running shorts and some sneakers, grabbing his headphones from his bag on his way out the door. “Hey,” he greets Stiles, a little tentatively, as he walks into the kitchen. Stiles is sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at a speck on the counter. He doesn’t respond, so Isaac tries again. “Stiles?” 

Still nothing. “Are you okay?” Isaac asks, sitting down next to Stiles, who has yet to acknowledge him. 

"Yeah," Stiles says absentmindedly. 

"No, you’re not. What’s wrong?" Isaac asks. Honestly, he doesn’t expect Stiles to actually tell him. However, he’s wrong, and Stiles turns to face him.

"I’m disappointed," he says, his fingers brushing the spot on his neck. Isaac sees this, and puts two and two together. 

Stiles can see how hurt Isaac suddenly looks, and how hard he’s trying to not show it. He quickly removes his hand from his neck, afraid Isaac got the wrong idea. 

"No, no, no! That’s not what I meant, sorry!" Stiles says. "Yeah, no, definitely not that. That was… yeah. I mean… No, not that," he rambles, reaching out and placing his hand on top of Isaac’s.

Isaac’s expression returns to normal, waiting for Stiles to explain himself. ”Then what is it?” he asks Stiles. 

"Tomorrow is my parents’ wedding anniversary. It’s always a really tough day for, uh, for my dad. From when I was old enough up until when my mom died, I would make them breakfast every morning on their anniversary. I mean, usually it was just two bowls of whatever sugary cereal I was eating, and I’d let half of the milk spill over the sides of the bowls when I tried pouring from the big jug, but still. It was tradition." Isaac can’t help but notice the way that Stiles’ eyes light up as he speaks.

"This is the first year since I was little I won’t be around to do it. I mean, she’s been gone for six years, but I, uh, I still do it for my dad. I think it helps him a little bit. Like, I can’t do much for him, but that’s like, the one thing he can always count on from me,” Stiles says, looking down. He feels so guilty, and he’s furious with himself for forgetting. And, now that he thinks about it, for even asking to go out this weekend. 

"You should be home with him! You can go back tonight, and we can just get a ride back from the others," Isaac says, even though he desperately wants Stiles to stay. It’s a selfish thing for Isaac to want, but he does anyway. 

"I didn’t even remember it was tomorrow until yesterday when someone mentioned something about dates," Stiles says, avoiding Isaac’s suggestion. 

"Stiles, family is always the most important thing. You need to be with your dad. Or, you know what? I’ll go back with you tonight, if you want." Isaac can’t pretend like he knows what Stiles is feeling, being close to his dad like he is. But, he can offer his help and support, and it’s something Stiles is grateful for. 

"It’s, uh, it’s their golden anniversary, too. When I was growing up, they always said that when it came, we would have a big celebration. It always seemed so far away to me, but I always looked forward to it. It’s crazy, just, uh, that she’s not here for it," Stiles says. After a minute, he sighs. "Nineteen years on the nineteenth," Stiles says, eyes sad. 

Isaac feels his stomach knot up. “Stiles,” he says calmly. 

"Hmm?"

"Today is the nineteenth, not tomorrow," Isaac says. 

"What?" Stiles asks, reaching for his phone. One look at the screen confirms that Isaac’s right. Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to fight the lump in his throat. He loses.

"Fuck," Stiles says, placing his phone on the counter before placing his head in his hands. Placing his elbows on the counter, Stiles feels hot tears in his eyes, spilling over onto his hands. He’s angry with himself, sad for his dad, and missing his mom, something he’s used to experiencing all at once. Still, there’s something about this time that makes it harder to fend off the emotions. 

"Hey, don’t cry," Isaac says, placing a hand on Stiles’ back. A big ‘14’ is on the back of the shirt, and Isaac realizes it belongs to him. Looking at the clock on the wall, he sees it’s just a few minutes before 7:30. 

"Stiles, what time does your dad usually get up?" Isaac asks. Stiles picks his head up, eyes rimmed in red. 

"On a Saturday? Like ten, why?" he asks with a sniffle. Isaac sees the gears begin turning in Stiles’ head, and can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face when he figures out why Isaac asked. 

"You’re a genius," Stiles says, standing up. "I’m gonna go, then. I’ll be back tonight, though," he adds, walking to his room to get his things, Isaac following him. As much as Isaac wants to go with him, he knows this is something Stiles should be alone for. He stands in the doorway of Stiles’ room, watching him thrown on a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes. He grabs his wallet and keys off of his nightstand before turning to Isaac. 

"You coming?" he asks. Isaac shakes his head, moving into the room and standing next to the bed.

"Nah, you go ahead. I’ll be here eagerly awaiting your return, though," Isaac says. 

"You sure?" Stiles asks. Isaac nods. Stiles wants to kiss him before he leaves, but isn’t sure where they stand. Was last night just drunk Isaac being drunk Isaac? Or was it a serious thing? I mean, Isaac did ask Stiles to want him, whatever that means. And, he did say he didn’t just do it because of all of the drinks. Fuck it, Stiles thinks, reaching up and pulling Isaac’s head down to meet his, planting a kiss on his lips.

Isaac responds quickly, kissing Stiles back and grabbing his waist, closing the gap between them. Isaac backs Stiles up against the wall, never letting their lips lose contact. Stiles spreads his legs and Isaac steps between them, hands on Stiles’ hips. He slips his fingers under Stiles’ shirt, pinning him against the wall. 

Deep in the back of Stiles head is something telling him to stop and get going, but he ignores it, knowing that it only takes an hour to get home and he has over two. Isaac, too, knows that he should be helping Stiles get out the door, but, like Stiles, he can’t find it in him to break away. 

"Isaac," Stiles breathes, finally pulling away. 

"I know," is all Isaac says. "Like I said. Eagerly awaiting your return."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Isaac says, leaning in for one more kiss. Stiles can still taste Isaac on his lips when he pulls away. He sighs, torn between wanting desperately to be with his dad but also wanting to stay right here in this moment. He knows that with his dad is where he belongs, so he steps away from Isaac and heads outside to his car. 

"Oh, shit!" Isaac says from behind Stiles when they open the door. It’s pouring rain, and the sky is a light gray. Stiles closes the door, turning to face Isaac. 

"Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Maybe sooner. Can you tell the others where I went?"

"Of course. Be safe. Call when you get home," Isaac instructs, opening the door once more. Stiles nods. 

"Absolutely," he kisses Isaac’s lips chastely before sprinting through the downpour to his jeep, quickly jumping in and slamming the door. Isaac laughs at how completely Stiles the whole thing is. The way he ran to his car, almost wiping out twice in the twenty feet it took to reach the jeep. The way he didn’t think to unlock the car before he was right next to it, yanking on his door handle as if it would open without being unlocked. 

Isaac watches as Stiles pulls away, leaving the driveway empty. As he pulls on to the main road, Isaac fires off a quick text to Stiles: “Miss you already!” 

Isaac was going to go for a run, but the weather ruined that idea. He decides to head inside and see if there’s anything to keep him busy. Sitting on the couch, he decides to text Lydia to let her know that Stiles went home for a little bit. After he does that, he picks up the remote to flip through the TV channels, but his phone begins ringing before he has the chance. 

His caller ID says it’s Stiles, and Isaac is worried something might be wrong. “Hello?” he answers. 

"Isaac!" Stiles voice is panicked on the other end. Isaac sits up quickly, in a panic. 

"Stiles? What’s wrong?!"

"I… I…" Stiles tries to speak, but his breathing is too heavy for Isaac to understand even if he tries to say anything else. 

"What’s going on, Stiles? Are you okay?" Isaac asks quickly. 

"N-n-no," is all Stiles has to say before Isaac is up on his feet, running towards the door. 

"Where are you? What happened?" Isaac questions. 

"Only like… a mile…. up the road," Stiles says, breaths quick and shallow. "I…. I…." he tries to speak, but can’t. 

"Stiles!" Isaac shouts, but there’s no response. He shoves his phone into his pocket, throwing open the door and running out into the rain. All of the cars are gone from the driveway, but that doesn’t stop him. He breaks into a sprint, soaked by the rain by the time he gets to the end of the driveway.


	5. Chapter Five

\---  
"get you into trouble and take all the blame"  
\---

Isaac runs down the street, through the pouring rain, trying to get to Stiles as fast as he can. He tries to call for help, but between his running and the torrential rain, he can’t see his phone in his hands. It slips out of his hand as he almost face plants over a rock in the road, but he leaves it on the road, shattered and useless. 

He can’t take the risk of Stiles’ phone being useless, and he’s too worried that he’ll need help. So, left with no choice, Isaac growls as loud as he can, praying that Scott is able to hear him. 

Through the rain, he can make out smoke rising into the air a little ways up the road. He swears under his breath, running as fast as he can and hoping it’s not Stiles’ car. As he gets closer, he sees the glare of tail lights and can’t help but notice the smell of burning rubber. 

His heart plummets when he’s able to make out a familiar blue jeep, roof and hood smashed in by the biggest tree limb Isaac has ever seen. The car must have spun out, because the hood is facing Isaac as he sprints towards it.

Running up to the car, Isaac sees the hood is smoking and the windshield is shattered. “Stiles!” he yells, trying to get to him. He’s still in the car, eyes closed, a small line of blood tricking from his forehead. Isaac yanks on the door handle, but it’s locked. “Stiles!” he bangs on the window, frantically trying to get a response. Stiles doesn’t make a move, eyes remaining closed. 

Isaac pulls his sweatshirt sleeve over his hand and slams his fist through the back seat window. It shatters, glass shards falling both in and out of the car. He reaches through the now open window and unlocks the door. He swings it open, all but jumping into the back seat. The roof of the car is seriously dented in, and he has to duck just to fit. Reaching through the space between the driver’s seat and the door, he pushes the unlock button then quickly jumps back out into the rain.

Yanking Stiles’ now unlocked door open, Isaac is able to see how bad Stiles is really hurt. There’s a big shard of glass lodged in Stiles’ thigh, his jeans covered in blood. Not to mention, the small gash on his forehead. 

"Stiles!" Isaac yells over the roar of the rain hitting the pavement. Stiles is unresponsive, but Isaac is able to find a pulse when he checks. He unbuckles Stiles’ seat belt and breathes a sigh of relief that he was wearing it. He doesn’t know if he should move him or not. "Stiles, come on!" Isaac says, tugging at his own hair in frustration and fear.

He grabs Stiles’ hands in his own, feeling warm blood on one of them. He looks down and sees blood smeared across Stiles’ fingers, but no sign of where it came from. 

Luckily, Isaac sees a car coming towards them, and he waves whoever it is over. He rubs his temples, accidentally smearing Stiles’ blood on his face, trying to calm down as the car screeches to a stop. Scott, Aiden, Lydia and Allison jump out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. Right behind them is the other car with Danny and Ethan. They, too, screech their car into park and jump out, running to join the others. 

"Call 911!" he shouts. Allison nods, pulling out her phone. 

"What happened?" Scott demands, running ahead of the others up to the car. 

"I don’t know! He called me and I came and… and he was just…I don’t…" Isaac says, feeling a lump forming in his throat. 

"It’s okay, Isaac," Scott says, eyes frantic as he takes in the accident scene. "Are you okay? You’re covered in blood," Scott asks.

"It’s not mine, I’m okay," Isaac replies, looking down at the smears of Stiles’ blood on his hands. He feels sick. 

"Stiles!" Scott shouts. 

"He’s not…" Isaac tries to say. He wills himself to hold it together, at least until an ambulance gets to them. 

"Is he-" Scott asks, lip quivering. 

"No, he has a pulse," Isaac says, looking over at Lydia, who is in tears. Allison is standing next to her, yelling into the phone. She hands it off to Lydia, who tells the dispatcher where they are through her tears. She hangs up, handing the phone back to Allison.

"Lydia?" Isaac asks.

"They’ll be here any minute. The rescue squad isn’t too far away. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay," she repeats, trying more so to reassure herself than the others.

Scott moves to grab Stiles to take him out of the car, but Isaac stops him. “No, Scott! The airbags didn’t go off, I don’t know if he hit his head.”

"Isaac’s right," adds Danny. "He could be really hurt, moving him could just make it worse."

"Come on, Stiles!" Scott shouts, leaning his head and hands against the car, trying to calm down.

"Scott," Allison begins, voice shaky.

"What?!" he snaps, turning to face her, tears in his eyes.

"Come here," she says. And he does, and she wraps her arms around him, trying to calm him down. "There’s nothing to do," she says as he cries onto her shoulder. "We just have to wait."

Isaac looks over at Stiles through his tear-clouded eyes. He looks so helpless, sitting there covered in blood, yet his eyes closed peacefully. He reaches out, grabbing Stiles’ arm. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth as Stiles’ pain becomes his own.

He opens his eyes, looking down to see the way his blood runs black as Stiles’ pain leaves his body and enters Isaac’s. “Come on,” Isaac whispers, begging Stiles to wake up. He must be in a lot of pain, because even though he’s only taking some of it, Isaac is in excruciating pain, more than he’s ever experienced before doing this.

He holds on to Stiles’ wrist, feeling the faint pulse beneath his fingers when he hears the sirens. Up pulls an ambulance, followed by two police cars and a fire engine. Breathing a sigh of relief through his gritted teeth, Isaac turns to look at the others.They’re watching him intently, trying to see if anything happened. He shakes his head, taking a shaky breath as the paramedics run towards them with a gurney. 

The firefighters come up to the car and check it out before letting the paramedics up close. One of them has to actually pull Isaac away from Stiles’ side so they can get to him. Soon enough, they have a collar around his neck, and they have him on the gurney. They wheel him quickly to the back of the nearby ambulance, instructing Isaac to follow them.

Isaac can’t help but notice Lydia as one of the paramedics leads him away. She’s hysterical. Aiden has his arms wrapped around her, trying to keep her calm. She’s fighting his grip, crying about needing to see Stiles. He’s whispering something in her ear which seems to calm her down a little, but she’s still crying by the time Isaac is sat down in the back of the ambulance. 

Scott follows them to the ambulance. “I just hung up with the sheriff. He’s going to meet us at the hospital. It’s like halfway between here and Beacon Hills,” he says. Isaac nods as the paramedics wrap him in a blanket. “Is he going to be okay?” Scott asks the paramedic sitting next to Stiles’ gurney.

The paramedic doesn’t answer Scott’s question, but tells him to get in the front if he wants to ride along. He does, and they pull away, leaving the others to follow behind. Isaac’s adrenaline begins to subside and his body starts shivering and aching.

He’s wrapped in the blanket, which is helping a little, but he’s soaked to the bone and can’t get his teeth to stop chattering. He does his best to answer the questions the paramedic is asking- answering the ones he can and telling him everything he knows. At one point, he looks over at Stiles. He looks so small, like a child in his oxygen mask, the glass removed from his leg and the spot where it was wrapped tightly in gauze. 

The paramedic talks to Isaac while tending to Stiles. Once he finishes up with Stiles, he moves over towards Isaac. He gets to work removing the glass from Isaac’s hand where he punched through the window. The alcohol he puts on it to sterilize the wounds stings like no other, but Isaac grits his teeth, keeping his eyes on Stiles. 

Once his hand is clean, glass free and bandaged up, the paramedic cleans up the small cut on Isaac’s forehead. He’s not sure where it came from or happened, but Isaac didn’t even notice until the paramedic cleaned it out and put a butterfly bandage on it. 

The paramedic checks on Stiles, and jots down some stuff on a clip board. Soon, the ambulance comes to a stop, and the paramedic jumps up. He unlocks Stiles’ gurney as the doors swing open. Doctors and nurses are running at the ambulance, shouting different things to each other as the paramedics take the gurney out of the ambulance. 

Isaac drops the blanket, jumping up and out of the ambulance. “Take it easy!” one of the nurses shouts behind her at Isaac as he starts to run after them. “Seriously, man,” Scott adds, coming out of the front seat. He pats Isaac on the shoulder. 

"He’s gonna be fine," Scott says, more for himself than for Isaac. Isaac shrugs him off, running into the hospital. Scott is next to him as they run through the hallways, trying to keep up with the people taking Stiles. They’re stopped by two nurses at a set of double doors. "Sorry, boys. You have to wait here. Someone will be out with an update for you when we know something," they say, pointing them in the direction of a cluster of chairs in the waiting room. 

Reluctantly, Isaac and Scott sit down, both putting their heads in their hands and waiting. They’re freezing, which must be pretty obvious to the nurses, because they come over to them with blankets. The boys gladly accept and try to warm themselves up while they wait. 

Isaac begins to cry silently, feeling so guilty for what happened. If he hadn’t pushed Stiles to go home, none of this would have happened. And if he had just gone with him…

"It’s not your fault," Scott says when he sees Isaac wiping tears from his eyes. 

"Yes it is," Isaac replies. 

"It’s not. And besides, he’s going to be fine. He’ll be fine," Scott says, placing a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. They sit like that in silence for a few minutes until Sheriff Stilinski runs in, demanding to know about Stiles. "Where is he?" he asks the boys. "Where’s my son?" 

"They took him back. Said we have to wait here for an update," Scott explains. 

"What the hell happened, Scott?" the sheriff asks, sitting down. He’s not angry, just concerned about his son. Before anyone can reply, a doctor comes out of the double doors. 

"Stilinski?" he asks. All three of them are on their feet in a matter of seconds. "Dr. Wright, nice to meet you," he says, shaking each one of their hands. 

"How is he?" Isaac asks. 

"Doing well, for now. His sats are coming back up and so are his vitals, and his injuries are being bandaged up now. However, he hit his head pretty hard. According to the first responders, the airbags didn’t deploy because there was no collision. It appears that when he slammed on his brakes when the branch fell on the car, he hit his head against the steering wheel pretty badly. Once he’s stable, we’re going to give him a CT scan to see if there’s any neural damage."

"Can we see him?" asks the sheriff. 

"As soon as he’s stable, yes. We’ll be out as soon as he is," Dr. Wright says. They thank him before he disappears behind the elusive double doors. 

"Boys, what happened?" the sheriff asks again. 

"I…" Scott tries. 

"He was going home," Isaac speaks up. 

"What? He knows better than to drive that car in this weather! Oh, god, I’m gonna kick his ass."

Sheriff Stilinski is just joking, but Isaac can’t help but think about all the times his own father vowed to kick his ass (and actually did). 

"Don’t be mad at him. It’s not his fault, it’s mine," Isaac says. 

"It’s not anyone’s fault," Scott jumps in. 

"He wanted to go home, I, uh, told him to leave right away. The rain was so bad, and I let him go. I shouldn’t have let him go, it was my fault," Isaac says. 

"You guys don’t think! That’s the problem. You do stuff like this and someone winds up getting hurt. Don’t go driving in a freaking monsoon in a car from the goddamn eighties!" 

"I’m sorry, Sheriff, I really am," Isaac says. "Please don’t be mad at Stiles."

"I’m not mad at anyone, Isaac, and I’m not placing blame. I’m just glad everyone is okay. But seriously, guys. Common sense?" 

"Sorry," this from Scott. Isaac apologizes too, even though he knows one word won’t change what happened. The three of them sit in silence for a while, Sheriff Stilinski skimming though magazines, Scott scrolling through his phone, and Isaac staring straight ahead. Eventually, the others arrive, greeting Sheriff Stilinski and filling him in on the whereabouts of the now-towed jeep. 

After a while, Dr. Wright returns. “He’s stable. He was just awake for a few minutes while the nurses were finishing up with him, but he’s exhausted. He’s drifting in and out of sleep now. You can go in, but if he’s asleep, it’s best to let him rest so his body is able to heal.”

Dr. Wright leads the way down the hallway to Stiles’ room. Only Scott, Isaac and the sheriff follow. The others decide to wait until later, as to not overwhelm an exhausted Stiles. As they reach the room, a nurse is coming out. She closes the door behind her and tells them he’s asleep. Isaac is disappointed- he really wanted to see Stiles.

Dr. Wright opens the door for them, though, so they go in. They just have to be sure to not wake him up. Isaac can’t help but notice once more how innocent and fragile Stiles looks, all bandaged up, eyes closed. 

Isaac and Scott decide to head back to the waiting room, so Stiles’ father can have time alone. Eventually, he returns to the waiting room and tells them he’s still asleep. “The doctors think he’ll be out for a while, especially because the pain meds they put him on are pretty serious stuff,” he tells the kids. Ethan and Danny take the car back to Lydia’s to get everyone new clothes. The rest of them decide to wait in his room instead of in the waiting room, that way they can be there if Stiles wakes up soon.

The next few hours are spent all together in Stiles’ room, talking in hushed voices. Allison and Scott leave to call their parents, and Lydia, Aiden and Sheriff Stilinski go to find coffee. Isaac is alone in the room with Stiles, and he’s glad he is. He sits on the side of the bed, taking Stiles’ hand in his own. 

"Stiles, if you ever scare us like that again, I don’t even know what I’ll do," Isaac says, looking at the sleeping boy. Even though he knows Stiles can’t hear him, he keeps talking. "I shouldn’t have let you go. It was stupid and we both knew better."

After a minute, he adds, “I’m so sorry you didn’t get to give your dad breakfast. But I’m glad we got to spend our, uh, time together. If I learned anything this weekend, it’s that Scott is a lightweight and that I really like you. I don’t know how it happened and I don’t know what we’re going to do about it, but Stiles, I know there’s something there. And I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, running his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles. 

"Me too," a hoarse voice croaks. 

"Stiles?" Isaac asks, letting go of his hand and jumping off the bed. He reaches for the button to call the nurses, but Stiles stops him. 

"No, don’t."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Come here," Stiles says. Isaac steps closer to Stiles. "No, closer."

Isaac is practically in Stiles’ face. Stiles reaches up with a shaky arm and pulls Isaac’s face towards his, pressing a kiss to his lips. “See, I’m fine,” he says as he pulls away. 

"Uh, guys?" Danny is standing in the doorway. 

"How much of that did you-"

"All of it."


	6. Chapter Six

\---  
"i’d paint you a picture, write you a song"  
\---

"Guys?" Danny asks, coming into the room all the way and closing the door behind him. He looks at Stiles, then Isaac, then back to Stiles. "Is there something you want to tell me?" 

Isaac didn’t know what to do. He and Stiles hadn’t talked about something like this happening. True, there had only been something to tell about for less than 24 hours. But still, it was something. “Uh. Well,” Stiles begins, looking at Isaac. Isaac nods, giving him permission. “Isaac and I…” 

"Honestly, I don’t know what you want us to say," Isaac says, taking over for Stiles. "It just sort of happened. We were drunk and one thing led to another and-"

"Wait, did you-" Danny asks, eyes wide. 

"No!" Isaac and Stiles say at the same time. Thanks to you, Stiles wants to say. 

"Was it more than just being drunk and stupid?" Danny asks. Stiles and Isaac share a look before nodding. 

"Then, uh, why don’t you guys talk for a little bit. Your secret’s safe with me," Danny says. 

"Seriously?" Stiles asks, knowing that he would be dying to tell everyone if he was in Danny’s position. 

"Yeah. Trust me, I know what it’s like not, uh, knowing," Danny says, gesturing to the two other boys. "You can’t be rushed into anything," he adds, handing Isaac the clothes he had been holding. 

"Thanks," Isaac says, taking his clothes and putting them on the chair by the bed. 

"Can you do me a favor and not tell anyone I’m awake?" Stiles asks. "Just… not yet. I just want to talk to Isaac."

Danny nods before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. “So,” Isaac says. 

"So," repeats Stiles. "What you said the other night, was it-"

"I meant it. Did you mean what you said?" Isaac asks. Stiles nods quickly. 

"Every word."

"Is this weird?" Isaac asks after a minute. "Like… I don’t know. Like two days ago, we were just two of the pack and now we’re-"

"I’m not pack," Stiles says, interrupting Isaac. 

"Yes, you are. Don’t ever say you’re not," Isaac says seriously. Stiles shrugs. 

"I-"

"It’s not a question, Stiles. Or an argument. It’s fact- you’re as much of the pack as I am. As much as Scott, Allison, Lydia… everyone."  
After Stiles eventually drops it, Isaac returns to his question. “We just got together. I mean, is that something we’re ready to tell everyone, or…”

"I’m not ready," Stiles says honestly.

"Thank God, okay, me too," Isaac says, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. "I will be eventually, though, just not now," he adds.

"Exactly," Stiles agrees. "So we’re on the same page, yeah?"

"Yeah," Isaac says with a smile, squeezing Stiles’ hand gently. "You want to see your dad now?" he adds. Stiles nods eagerly. 

"Wait!" Stiles says suddenly as Isaac walks away. Isaac turns around quickly, worried something suddenly happened. "Is my jeep…" Stiles asks. 

"What?" Isaac asks, not sure if he heard Stiles correctly. 

"My jeep. Is it gonna be okay?" he asks, completely serious. 

"It’s going to be fine," Isaac says with a small laugh, even though he has no idea what the state of the car is. 

"Good," Stiles says, laying back down. "Where’s my dad?"

"I’m gonna get him now," Isaac says. Sheriff Stilinksi is in the small hospital cafe with Lydia and Aiden, still waiting in the long line for coffee when Isaac rushes in. ”He’s up,” Isaac says, approaching them. The Sheriff thanks him quickly and ducks under the black rope guiding the line and hurries out of the cafe. Lydia tries to follow him, but Aiden grabs her arm gently.

"Give him time," Aiden says. Lydia looks anxious to see Stiles, but she agrees nonetheless. Isaac takes the Sheriff’s spot in line, which is moving painfully slow. 

"Is he okay?" Lydia asks Isaac. He nods. 

"Yeah, he’s good. Worried about his jeep, but he’ll be fine." Lydia looks relieved. Isaac can’t help but wonder what her deal is- from what he’s heard, she never wanted anything to do with Stiles until she got the bite and became pack… and even then, she constantly rejected him. Isaac knows that one time when she was drunk she told Allison she and Stiles kissed, and Allison then told Scott who told Isaac who had been drying to know if it was true since the second he heard it.

But from what he had seen, Lydia was into Aiden, not Stiles. Isaac can’t help but wonder why she’s so worried about Stiles all of a sudden. It’s not like this is his first time in danger or anything, and he’s going to be totally fine. Isaac can’t shake the image of Lydia struggling against Aiden’s arms at the accident scene, trying desperately to get to Stiles.

Isaac would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous that Lydia might be into Stiles. He avoids the thought, trying to bring his mind elsewhere. “Do you guys know about the car?” he asks. 

Aiden nods. “It’s not totaled. The mechanics think they can pull the dent out of the roof and hood, and they can replace the windshield. They said the back window was shattered, but they don’t really know why.” 

Isaac decides not to say anything about the damage he did to the back window, so he just nods. “They can fix it all though, it just might be a few days.” 

"How much is it going to cost?" Isaac asks. 

"Nothing," says Aiden. Isaac is confused. 

"My parents are going to take care of it," Lydia says. "They feel terrible and they’re ready to kill me so this is where they can channel their energy," she adds. 

"Oh, uh, okay then. Does the Sheriff know?" Isaac asks. Lydia nods. Isaac doesn’t know what else to say, so he just nods. It’s almost their turn to order. When it is, they get everyone coffees and head back to the waiting room, where most of the others are. Scott and Sheriff Stilinski are in Stiles’ room, but the others are waiting. Isaac finally goes and changes into the clothes he’s been carrying around, and when he returns, he walks right into Danny. 

"Hey, man," Danny says. 

"Hey. Do you, uh, have a sec?" Isaac asks, motioning to the hospital lobby. Danny nods, following Isaac. 

"What’s up?" he asks. 

"Stiles and I talked," Isaac begins. "We both agreed that we don’t want anyone knowing. Not yet, at least. Can we count on-"

"Your secret’s safe with me," Danny says, interrupting Isaac. Isaac nods, relieved. 

"Thanks, man."

"Don’t mention it," Danny says, and the two boys return to the waiting room. Sheriff Stilinski walks into the waiting room shortly thereafter. He thanks all of the kids for all they’ve done and explains he has to be back in Beacon Hills for his shift, and since Stiles is fine, he’s leaving him in their care until he can return the next morning. 

"Isaac, can I talk to you?" he asks. Isaac is surprised, to say the least. His heart all but stops beating as he struggles to swallow, standing up and following the Sheriff out of the waiting room and into the hospital lobby where he just was with Danny. 

"Isaac."

"Sir."

"Thank you," Sheriff Stilinski says, surprising Isaac. 

"For?" Isaac asks, confused. Isaac totally figured he was on top of the man’s shit list, so this is a surprise.

"Lydia told me you were there right away and you stayed with Stiles until help got to you guys. And you got banged up doing so," Sheriff Stilinski says, motioning to Isaac’s bandaged hand. "So thank you. You guys all look out for each other, and that’s great. Don’t stop that anytime soon."

"We won’t, don’t worry."

"Thanks Isaac," Sheriff Stilinski says, patting Isaac on the shoulder before walking towards the door.

"Wait, Sheriff?"

"Yeah?" he turns around to face Isaac.

"Did Stiles tell you why he was trying to get home?" Isaac asks. Sheriff Stilinski shakes his head. "He was trying to get home to bring you breakfast," Isaac says. Sheriff Stilinski closes his eyes, sighs, and shakes his head. 

"I thought he was finally getting over it. He asked to go to the cabin for the weekend, I said yes, I thought that was his way of not acknowledging it this year."

Isaac nods. “He panicked when he realized he had today’s date wrong. Got even more concerned when he realized the significance of this year,” Isaac says, trying to skirt away from straightforwardly acknowledging Mrs.Stilinski’s death.

The Sheriff sighs. “That kid, he just cares so much, and I worry it’s at the expense of his youth. I mean, I guess I should be used to it by now, but still. He shouldn’t be leaving his friends to check up on me.”

"I understand, sir. After my mom passed, my father wasn’t the same. I mean, none of us were, but he took it really, really hard. I remember riding the bus to school with my older brother, but he was rarely there on the way home. I found out he used to leave school to go home and check on my dad, even if it meant using excuses so my dad didn’t know his intentions."

"Sounds exactly like Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski says with a laugh. "I worry about him though. I can’t help but think that one of these days he’s going to be sick of being that person, and he’ll change for the worse."

"That’s the thing. My, uh, my brother…he was just one of those people who cared a lot. Until the responsibility caught up to him, and he stopped caring. He became sad and bitter and- I’m sorry, I don’t know where I’m really going with this. Stiles isn’t going to be like that-"

"No, I know. He has good intentions. I just wish he would relax, let it be more about him sometimes. If you get the chance, remind him for me that he’s still a kid. Maybe it’ll mean more coming from someone who’s not his dad."

"Yeah, absolutely. I’ll see what I can do, sir."

"Isaac, stop calling me ‘sir’."

"Oh, sorry, s-" Isaac barely catches himself. "I mean, sorry." 

Sheriff Stilinski smiles and pats Isaac’s shoulder again. “You’re a good kid, Isaac. Thanks.”

"Thanks," Isaac replies as Sheriff Stilinski turns and walks out of the hospital and to his cruiser. Isaac isn’t sure what to think. At least the Sheriff likes him. From what he can tell, at least. Shrugging, Isaac returns to the waiting room, only to find none of his friends there. He heads to Stiles’ room and finds everyone sitting around talking. Stiles is sitting up and focused on something Scott is saying. When he sees Isaac enter the room, Stiles’ eyes light up a little bit more, and the corners of his lips threaten to tug upward into a smile. 

Isaac smiles at Stiles as they make eye contact and joins the rest of them. They all stick around in Stiles’ room for another hour or two before he falls asleep and they decide to clear out to give him some peace. 

Back in the waiting room, Lydia is on the phone with her parents, as Danny. It’s eventually decided that since Stiles is fine and going to be discharged the following morning, one car is going to head back to the cabin and then to Beacon Hills, and the other will return to Beacon Hills the following day with Stiles. Scott, Allison and Isaac volunteer to stay with Stiles, which is more than okay with the others, who are exhausted. 

Once they’ve said goodbye to the others, the three of them go to Stiles’ room, where he’s still sleeping. After a few minutes of silence, Allison and Scott go off in search of food, leaving Isaac alone with a sleeping Stiles. Isaac sits in a chair beside the bed, scrolling though different apps on his phone, trying to pass the time. "Hey," Stiles croaks after a while. 

"You’re up," Isaac says. "You feel okay?" he asks, noticing Stiles grit his teeth as he sits up.

"Yeah, I’m good," he replies, even though it’s a bold-faced lie. He’s in a ton of pain, and Isaac can tell.

Isaac shakes his head. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

"I’m fine, Isaac."

"No, you’re not," Isaac says. "I’m going to get a nurse." 

Moments later, Isaac returns with a nurse, who tells Stiles his pain meds are wearing off. She gets him another bag and connects it to his IV drip and asks if he needs anything else. He says no, and she leaves, leaving Isaac and Stiles alone again.

"Better?" Isaac asks as Stiles lays back down.

"Yeeeeeeah," Stiles says, drawing out the word. The medicine seems to be working quickly, not to mention hitting him pretty hard. "Heeey, Isaac," Stiles says with a laugh. 

"Hey, Stiles."

"Will you sing to me? Pretty pleeeeeease?" Stiles is totally out of it. 

"Noooo way," Isaac says, laughing. 

"Then can I sing to youuuuu?" he asks. Isaac nods, sitting back in his seat. 

"Did you write me a song or is this all ad lib?" Isaac asks. It feels like he’s talking to a small child. Stiles doesn’t answer his question but instead starts singing. 

"Your name is Isaaaaaaaaaaac. Your hair is cuuuuuuuuuurlyyyyyyyyy and you like to wear scarves!" Stiles half-sings, half-says between his crazy giggles. 

Isaac can’t help but laugh. “Stiles, really? You’re totally out of it.”

"And your hair is curly and you wear scarves," Stiles repeats, laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. 

"You already said that!" Isaac protests with a laugh. 

"But it’s truuuuuuuuue."

"Stiles," Isaac smiles. 

"Isaaaaac."

"Do you want to try to get some more sleep?" Isaac asks. 

"Nooooooooo. I want to sing to youuuuuuuuu!" Stiles looks so childish and little in the hospital bed, Isaac can’t possibly find it in himself to try to stop him.

"Okay, then. Sing away," Isaac says, reaching out to pat Stiles’ hair back into place. By the time he pulls his hand away, Stiles’ eyes are closed. Isaac smiles, leaning back in his seat. "Goodnight, Stiles," he says with a grin.


	7. Chapter Seven

\---  
"and i’d do it all over if i did it all wrong"  
\---

It had been nearly three months since Stiles was released from the hospital on the day following his accident. The time since has been spent sneaking around with Isaac- stealing kisses when they were alone and sneaking off together when they had the chance. 

At first it was exciting, and the secrecy and rarity of their time together made everything a little hotter- their kisses more frantic, their touches more heated. However, it has been a while, and the secrecy has lost its luster. 

Sheriff Stilinski has been working late into the evenings recently, which seems to be working in Isaac and Stiles’ favor. Stiles will call Isaac when the coast is clear, and he comes over until the Sheriff’s shift ends. He’s often having to hide in the closet or climb through the window if the Sheriff comes home earlier than anticipated, which has gotten really old. 

One Tuesday afternoon, Stiles comes home to an empty house. After calling his dad, he calls Isaac. 

"Hey," he says when Isaac picks up. "My dad’s at work until seven, come over." 

"Be there in ten," Isaac says before hanging up. Sure enough, in ten minutes, Stiles hears a quiet knock at the door. 

"Hey, you," Stiles says, closing the door behind Isaac. He wraps an arm around Isaac’s waist, pulling him close and greeting him with a long kiss. They go up to Stiles’ room, where they attempt to study together. Naturally, no studying gets done.

Before long, Stiles is falling backward onto his bed, pulling Isaac down on top of him before capturing his lips in his own. Isaac breaks the kiss and straddles Stiles’ hips as he pulls off his shirt. Stiles puts his arms up as Isaac rips his shirt off as well, before pushing him back against the mattress and running his hands over Stiles’ sides. 

Stiles runs his hand up Isaac’s neck and through his hair, tangling his fingers in the blond curls. Isaac presses a line of kisses down Stiles’ jaw, sucking a hickey into the pale skin of his neck. Stiles gasps, yanking on one of Isaac’s curls. Isaac makes a sound of approval against Stiles, who pulls Isaac’s head up and crashes their lips together. 

The kiss is hot, messy, and open mouthed- their favorite kind. Hands are everywhere, both of them trying to struggle for dominance. At first, Isaac wins, seeing as he’s on top of Stiles. He grabs Stiles arms and pins them above his head as he kisses a line down his chest. Stiles quickly changes things, taking Isaac by surprise and flipping him over. 

Although they’ve never done more than make out, Isaac fumbles for Stiles’ belt buckle. At the feeling of Isaac’s fingers brushing his happy trail, Stiles all but freezes, gasping. Isaac looks up at Stiles to make sure he’s okay with going further. Stiles understands Isaac’s look, nodding eagerly as he reaches for Isaac’s pants. 

Isaac unzips Stiles’ pants, yanking them down to his knees before lifting his hips to help Stiles do the same to him. Stiles leans down and they kiss, Isaac smiling against Stiles’ lips. Stiles pulls away, panting as he runs his hands down Isaac’s chest and to his boxers. Just as his fingers hook under the waistband, Stiles freezes. 

"I’m good," Isaac breathes, reassuring Stiles, who is sitting still, frozen in place. Stiles pulls his hands away from Isaac and sits up, knees on either side of Isaac’s hips. "Are you o-" Isaac begins, but Stiles presses a finger against Isaac’s lips, silencing him. 

"Fuck," Stiles whispers, closing his eyes and making a face. 

"What?" Isaac asks, propping himself up on his elbows. 

"My dad’s home," Stiles says, listening to the tell-tale sound of the garage door moving beneath them. "Closet," he instructs Isaac, swinging his leg across Isaac and scrambling off the bed. He quickly grabs his shirt off the floor and pulls it on, then pulling up his pants and zipping them at record speed. He spins around spastically, throwing Isaac his shirt. Isaac tugs it on after pulling up his own pants and Stiles opens up the closet door, spinning his arm like a windmill until Isaac steps inside. 

Stiles closes the closet door behind Isaac and paces his room quickly, trying to think of how he can hide his massive boner from his dad, god forbid he comes in the room. He runs to his desk, sitting down and scooting in as far as he can. He tries to catch his breath, pulling out a textbook just as there’s a knock on the door. “Stiles?” his dad calls. 

"Yeah, Dad, come in," Stiles says, trying to slow his breathing as he pretends to flip through his chem textbook. Sheriff Stilinski opens the door only halfway, poking his head and upper body in. "Why are you home so early?" Stiles asks. 

"County’s starting a maximum work week. They sent me home for the day so I could come in for shift tomorrow," Sheriff Stilinski says. Stiles nods. "But, uh, if it’s okay with you, I think I might meet a few of the other guys for a bite. A few of us got sent home," the sheriff says. Stiles nods again. 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Go have fun," Stiles says, waving his hand outward, trying not to sound too eager to get rid of his dad. 

"Okay, then. I’m just gonna get changed and get going," he says, closing the door. Stiles waits a few minutes until he hears another knock on his door. "Okay, see you later," his dad says.

"Bye, Dad."

As soon as he hears the garage door close, Stiles stands up. “Isaac, it’s okay, coast is clear,” he says. Isaac looks unhappy as he closes the closet door behind him, stepping into the room. 

"Stiles, we should talk," Isaac says, sitting down on the bed. Stiles sits next to him, looking concerned. "I think we should tell people," Isaac says. "You know, about us."

"I’m not ready," Stiles says, shaking his head. 

"Listen, Stiles, I understand it takes time at first, and I needed time too. But it’s been three months. We call each other boyfriends and we do stuff that boyfriends do, I don’t see an issue with letting other people know," Isaac says, reaching for Stiles’ hand. 

"Isaac, no," Stiles says, kind of harshly. 

"I don’t want to force you into anything, but I know you, and I know that isn’t just you not being ready. What’s holding you back?" Isaac asks. 

Stiles ignores the question. “Where is this even coming from?” he asks. 

Isaac is beginning to get frustrated. He doesn’t understand why Stiles doesn’t feel comfortable enough with him to be honest, and it’s starting to annoy him. “The fact that I was just in your fucking closet hiding from your dad,” Isaac says. 

"Us being open about our relationship doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want my dad walking in on me and anyone almost completely naked on my bed, regardless of if he knows we’re together or not,” Stiles argues. 

"Maybe so, but still, why couldn’t I have been in the room, working on homework? Why do I have to wait until he’s gone to come over?" Isaac asks, letting go of Stiles’ hand. "It’s not like this is the first time we’re having this conversation, either. It’s been three months, Stiles. We’ve had this conversation multiple times, and each time it’s the same answer, but I really don’t understand at this point,” Isaac says honestly. “Is it me?”

"Then stop bringing it up if you don’t like my answer," Stiles says, averting his eyes from Isaac’s questioning stare. Isaac is shocked at how Stiles is acting- it’s not like him at all to be this closed off and defensive, and he’s not sure what the reason is. "You needed time too, don’t forget that."

"What’s wrong, Stiles? Why are you being like this?" Isaac asks. 

"Like what? Someone mature enough to make my own decisions?" Stiles snaps. 

"No, like someone who’s too defensive to hear me out," Isaac snaps back. 

"Isaac, just drop it. I said I’m not ready, just leave it," Stiles says. 

"No, Stiles. I’m not dropping it," Isaac says, annoyed. "Is it because I’m a guy?" he asks. 

"What are you even talking about?" Stiles asks angrily. 

"The fact that I’m a guy! Because if that’s it, you have nothing to be worried about. No one in Beacon Hills cares enough about anyone besides themselves enough to give a shit about you dating a guy instead of a girl," Isaac replies. It’s true, and he knows that Stiles knows this. 

"It shouldn’t matter who I’m dating, you’re right. Because it’s no one’s business, except ours. You know we’re together, I know we’re together, so who else needs to know? It’s you and me, not you, me, and everyone in this town."

"Yes, and I agree with that to a certain extent, which is why we don’t invite the whole school in here to watch us hook up," Isaac says. 

"I just don’t see why it needs to be anyone else’s business," Stiles says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Stiles, a relationship isn’t need-to-know information, you get that right?"

"You know what I don’t get? Why you’re pushing me like this," Stiles snaps. 

"I’m not pushing you on anything!" Isaac cries. "I’m trying to see where you’re coming from, and you aren’t telling me! Just be honest with me, that’s all I want."

"I told you-" Stiles begins.

Isaac cuts him off. “You’ve told me about three different things, none of which are the real reason.”

Stiles looks away, trying to calm down. “Look at me,” Isaac says, voice quiet. Stiles turns his head, looking into Isaac’s eyes. “Do you care about me?” Isaac asks. Stiles nods, despite his anger. “Do you trust me?” Isaac asks. Stiles nods again. “Then why can’t you be honest with me?”

Stiles is silent. He doesn’t know what to say to Isaac. He takes a deep breath and shrugs. “Is it me?” Isaac asks. 

"I’m just thinking about my dad, and what it would be like for him in town when people find out that not only is his son gay - well, actually, bi - but he’s dating the kid who was arrested for the possible murder of his father," Stiles says, finally being honest. 

While he’s glad Stiles is being honest, Isaac can’t help but be hurt by his words. “So it is me?” he snaps. He doesn’t mean to be aggressive about it, but he’s hurt. 

"Listen, Isaac, just because you don’t have people who would be affected by news like this doesn’t mean that I don’t," Stiles replies, voice even. He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. 

"Right, because I have no one," Isaac says, standing up. He’s furious at this point. He grabs his backpack off of the floor and shoves his feet into his shoes. 

"No! No. Fuck. No. Isaac, no, that’s not what I meant," Stiles says, standing up quickly. 

"No, I’m pretty sure that is it. What else could you have possibly meant?" Isaac asks. 

Stiles realizes with a bit of horror that what he said, was, in fact, what he meant. He didn’t mean to say it, though, at least not like that. “Isaac,” he says. 

"Forget it, Stiles. You win. Secret’s safe with me," Isaac says before storming out. 

"Isaac, stop!" Stiles says, chasing him down the stairs.

"Leave me alone, Stiles!" Isaac says, slamming the door behind him on his way out. Stiles reaches for the door just as it closes with a bang, letting his arm fall to his side in defeat. He leans his back against the closed door, sighing. 

How did we get here? Stiles thinks. He takes a deep breath, sinking to the floor and pulling his knees to his chest. He’s mad at himself more than anything- he should have done so many things different. He regrets the way he talked to Isaac, the things he said, and the fact that he sort of meant them. Looking at it now, from the sidelines of their first huge fight, he realizes how petty he seems. Isaac was right, he realizes. Why should it matter who he dates? Why should anyone care? He knows his dad would accept him no matter what, and so would everyone else in the pack. No one else matters, so what does he care about what they might think about him dating another guy?

He gets up off the floor and walks into the kitchen. He gets a glass of water and sits down while he thinks about how things unfolded. He sits alone at the kitchen table for almost an hour, wallowing in self-loathing and regret, before he decides to do something about it. He grabs his keys off of the counter and shoves his feet into the shoes he left by the door before hurrying to his car. 

Meanwhile, Isaac starts running. As soon as he reaches the street in front of the Stilinskis’ house, he takes off. He runs until he reaches Derek’s apartment. He doesn’t know why his feet took him here, of all places, but he doesn’t question it. He realizes, as he catches his breath, that Stiles is right- he has no one. The closest thing he has is pack, and he supposes that’s why he wound up letting himself into Derek’s apartment. 

"Derek?" he calls out, closing the door behind him. "I know I was banned, and all, but-"

Cora steps out of the shadows of the dark living room. “Derek’s not home. Just me, you’re more than welcome to stay.”

Isaac nods, glancing at the bottle of vodka in her hand. “Rough day?” he asks, setting his backpack down by the door. 

"You could say that," she says. "I’m seventeen and I’m getting drunk by myself. With liquor I stole from Derek," she adds, laughing. "I’m not an alcoholic, I swear. I just… I just had a really terrible day," she says, taking a drink straight from the bottle. 

"No judgement here," Isaac says as she passes the bottle to him. "I had an equally terrible day," he tells her, taking a drink and wincing. 

"I won’t ask if you won’t," she says, pouring some of the alcohol into a cup for him. 

"Deal," he says, taking the drink from her and downing it quickly. 

"Shit, Isaac. That was like three shots worth," Cora laughs, pouring him some more. He raises his cup to her this time, and she raises the bottle to him. They both drink, her from the bottle, him from his cup. Cora inhales sharply, pulling away from the bottle and making a face. Isaac laughs, the third round going down much more smoothly than the first two did. 

"You’re gonna be soooooo drunk," she says, laughing as he takes the bottle from her. 

"Who cares," Isaac says, pouring himself some more. He means it, too. By the time he downs his cup for the third time, he’s already feeling it. Cora takes another drink from the bottle, making the same face again. Isaac doesn’t know how much she had before he got there, but she’s already clearly buzzed. 

Cora sits on the counter, drinking a little more. Isaac drinks some more, too, laughing with her about whatever she’s talking about. He begins to forget about everything with Stiles as the alcohol numbs him from head to toe. Cora’s drunk like no other. If she weren’t sitting on the counter, she would be falling over, Isaac’s sure of it. 

"I’m sorry you had a bad day," she says after a minute of silence. 

"I’m sorry, too," Isaac says, looking down. Cora comes off of the counter carefully, grabbing onto Isaac’s bicep to steady herself. She laughs at herself. Isaac, despite being totally wasted himself, looks down at her, concerned that she may have had too much. Cora looks up at him with a small smile, shocked at how blue his eyes are. 

Before either of them knows it, their lips are on each other’s, Cora’s hand still on Isaac’s arm. He grabs her waist, pulling her close. She moves her hand from his arm up to his neck, fingers brushing the hair at the nape. Suddenly, the door swings open. Both Isaac and Cora freeze against each other, pulling away at the sound of someone gasping.

Isaac’s back is to the door, and he’s absolutely terrified that when he turns around he’s going to see Derek. This is literally the exact same scenario he was caught in the time he was banned. Drunk Cora and drunk Isaac came back from a party pretty late one night, and instead of going to sleep in their respective rooms, Derek got up for a glass of water and found them making out on the couch. Needless to say, he freaked and told Isaac to get out and stay out. 

Cora looks up at the door and is relieved to see it isn’t her brother. “Oh. Hey, Stiles,” she says. Isaac’s breath hitches in his throat. The only person worse than Derek to find them would be Stiles. 

Isaac turns around quickly, only to get a quick glance at the hurt look on Stiles’ face before he runs out of the apartment quickly. “Fuck,” Isaac whispers under his breath. He swings open the door and rushes into the hallway, only to see Stiles is gone. 

Stiles runs out of Derek’s building and across the street to where he parked his car. He quickly jumps inside and slams the door before the tears begin pricking his eyes. He sits in his parked car, trying furiously to blink them back when the passenger door opens. It’s Isaac. He gets in and sits down, and the first thing Stiles notices is the strong smell of alcohol. 

"Go away, Isaac," he says angrily. 

"Please, Stiles. Let me explain," Isaac says, stumbling over his words.

"You’re absolutely shit faced," Stiles says. "And I just caught you cheating on me."

"Please," Isaac begs. 

"No, Isaac. Please get out," Stiles says, voice breaking. 

"Don’t cry, Stiles. Please don’t cry," Isaac says. 

"Just go," Stiles says, turning his head so Isaac can’t see the hot, angry tears clouding his vision. 

"Can we talk?" Isaac asks, breath thick with the scent of vodka. 

"No. I.. I can’t do this," Stiles says. "I need time to… to deal with this," he adds. 

"What… what are you.."

"We’re over, Isaac. I’m done," Stiles says, swallowing a huge lump in his throat. 

"Stiles, come on. Let’s start over. From… from the beginning. I’ll do it all over, we can go from the start," Isaac says, head pounding as he tries to think clearly through his drunken haze. 

"Goodbye, Isaac," Stiles says firmly, reaching across Isaac and opening the passenger door for him. Isaac doesn’t know what to say, so he does as Stiles asks and gets out. As soon as he closes the door, Stiles turns on the jeep and drives off, leaving Isaac alone on the pavement. As soon as the familiar blue jeep is out of sight, Isaac doubles over and throws up everything in stomach.


	8. Chapter Eight

\---  
"i don’t want to steal you away"  
\---

A week had passed since Stiles broke up with Isaac. The thing making this breakup especially terrible is that no one else knows they were ever together. The two have been forced to act as if nothing happened, which is even worse that acknowledging the heartbreak on both sides. The first few days are excruciating. Stiles stays in bed, pretending he’s sick with the stomach flu so he doesn’t have to face school, or anyone, for that matter. Little does he know that Isaac, too, has also been ditching school for the past few days out of fear of seeing Stiles and not knowing what to do. 

Since Mrs. McCall would have seen right through a fake illness had he remained at Scott’s house, Isaac spent a couple of nights on the couch at Derek’s place, until Derek got back from wherever he was and Isaac went back to Scott’s. Other than Cora and Scott, he didn’t talk to anyone. Even though he was dying to, he never called or texted Stiles. 

Scott knows something’s going on with Stiles- he’s barely talking. Even though as far as Scott knows, he’s sick, it’s not at all like Stiles to lay low. Lydia, reigning party queen that she is, decides to have a party on the Friday after Isaac and Stiles broke up. Stiles comes back to school on the Thursday. It just so happens that so does Isaac. 

"Stiles!" Lydia calls, heels clicking against the hallway as she chases after him. 

"Oh, hey, Lydia," Stiles says, turning around as she catches him by his locker. 

"Feeling better?" Lydia asks, rooting around in her purse for something.

"What?" Stiles asks, confused. How would she know how bad he had been feeling?

"Scott said you were sick?" Lydia says, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m good, thanks," Stiles says as Lydia pulls out a lipstick. She uncaps it, putting it on in a thick layer. 

"So," she says, rubbing her lips together. "Party tomorrow night. My place, of course. Be there," she says, placing a hand on Stiles’ arm and giving him a smile. He’s shocked by her touch. 

"I don’t know, I-"

"Shhh. I don’s want to hear excuses. Please come." Lydia bats her eyelashes. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he would think she was trying to flirt with him. 

"Uh, okay. Sure, I’ll come," he agrees, a little flustered by the sudden attention from Lydia. 

"Good. Can’t wait," she says, flashing him a smile before sauntering away. He pulls a face, leaning against his locker trying to process things. He doesn’t have much time to do so, because he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey, Scott," Stiles says, turning around. 

"What’s up, man? Feeling better?" Scott asks. Stiles nods. "You gonna come to Lydia’s tomorrow?" Stiles nods again. "Dude, what’s wrong?" Scott finally asks. Stiles shrugs. "You’re not yourself," Scott points out. Stiles shrugs again. 

"I’m fine," Stiles says with a laugh, even though the words are untruthful and the laugh is forced. 

"Seriously, are you?" Scott presses. Stiles nods. 

"Yeah. I’m better than fine- I’m good. Great, even!" Stile says. Lie. Lie. Lie. 

"Okay, man. You coming to Lydia’s tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, wouldn’t miss it," Stiles says. Lie. 

"Uh, do you know what’s up with Isaac?" Scott asks as they start walking to class. 

"No, why?" Lie. Well, not really. Stiles hasn’t heard from Isaac or tried to talk to him, so there could be something he doesn’t know about. 

"He ditched on Monday night. Just didn’t come back. Texted and told me he was staying at Derek’s. But Derek banned him last I had heard. Anyway, he came back last night and looked like hell. Quieter than usual and he went right to sleep. Didn’t see him when I left for school though," Scott says with a shrug. Stiles breathes a tiny sigh of relief- if Isaac isn’t in school, that will make Stiles’ day much easier. 

"Nah, man, I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him lately," Stiles says. Not a lie. 

"Okay. If you hear from him, get him to come to Lydia’s tomorrow!" Scott says, excited as usual. Stiles nods as the two part ways for their different classes. 

Stiles has his head down as he walks into English, and he collides with someone as he steps through the door. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he apologizes, looking up. Of course. 

“It’s fine,” Isaac mumbles. Stiles lowers his eyes again, stepping to the side to get away from Isaac. Isaac, however, steps to the side as well, blocking Stiles’ path. “Can…can we talk?” Isaac asks quietly. 

"No," Stiles says, stepping around Isaac and quickly taking his seat. Isaac frowns, leaving the classroom as he had initially intended to get his book from his locker. When he returns, he takes his seat in front of Stiles without so much as a glance at the other boy.

Isaac can feel Stiles’ eyes boring into the back of his head for the entire class. Now that Ms. Blake is gone, they’ve been having a series of subs until a permanent replacement can be found. Today’s sub is horrendously boring, and Isaac has never wanted to drive a pencil through his eyeball more than he does in this hour. He all but jumps out of his seat at the bell. 

The rest of the day is excruciatingly uncomfortable for the two of them. They suffer silently through every encounter- especially the prolonged ones- lunch, chem, and history. Finally, the dismissal bell rings- Stiles beelines for his car, and Isaac all but runs to Scott’s house.

The next day is the exact same- uncomfortable, silent, and not over quick enough. Stiles comes home to an empty house for the first time all week and instinctively reaches for his phone to call Isaac. Just as he pulls it from his back pocket, he remembers. He groans, throwing his phone against the wall in frustration and anger. “Whoa, what the hell?” his dad demands, standing in the open door.

Stiles doesn’t say anything. Instead, he grabs his backpack off the floor and stomps up the stairs, leaving his phone wherever it landed. He slams the door of his bedroom, dropping his backpack by the desk and collapsing on his bed. Not long after, his dad is knocking at the door. “Everything okay?” he calls. 

"I’m fine, Dad," Stiles yells back, voice muffled by the pillow he has his head buried in. 

"You sure?"

Stiles nods, but then realizes his dad can’t hear him nod from the other side of the door. “Yeah, promise,” he calls. Even though it’s not convincing in the least, it gets rid of his dad. Next thing Stiles knows, he’s being woken up by Scott. 

"Dude, get up!" Scott yells, shaking Stiles. "Your dad let me in. You weren’t answering your phone. Lydia’s, remember?" Scott says when Stiles gives him a blank stare. 

"I don’t wanna go," Stiles mumbles into his pillow. 

"Yes, you do!" Scott argues. 

"Noooo," Stiles replies, turning over and pulling his blankets over his head. Scott yanks them off, pulling Stiles by the legs until he actually sits up. He looks absolutely pissed, but Scott doesn’t care. 

"Let’s go, you’re coming!"

"Scott, I really don’t want to, I-" 

"You have to come! This is the first party since Lydia and Aiden broke up a couple of weeks ago, which means she’s going to be on the rebound, which means she’s going to be hogging Allison all night, which means I need you," Scott explains, opening Stiles’ closet to look for something for him to wear. He can’t help but think about how the tables have changed- he’s the one begging Stiles to go a party for once, not the other way around. He tosses a few shirts at Stiles, who reluctantly pulls one on. 

"Fine," Stiles says. "But you’re DD," he adds, chucking Scott the jeep keys. 

"Okay. Fine. I’ll take it," Scott says, just glad that Stiles agreed to come at all. When they go downstairs, Sheriff Stilinski is so relieved to see Stiles is socializing that he doesn’t ask questions on what they’re doing and where they’re going. 

At Lydia’s, Stiles does a quick scan for Isaac. He’s relieved that he doesn’t see him, but not relieved enough to let his guard down. As soon as Lydia sees Stiles, she runs over, quite a feat in her sky-high shoes. “Stiles!” she cries, pulling him into a hug. She starts rambling about drinks and music, but he mostly tunes her out as he keeps an eye on the door, praying each time it opens that Isaac won’t be the one walking through. Lydia brushes her hand against Stiles’ arm as she talks, even going as far as squeezing his bicep at one point. 

At first, Stiles thinks it’s weird, but when he sees Isaac walk in behind Cora, he suddenly doesn’t mind Lydia’s attention. She eventually scurries off to find someone, and Stiles quickly finds Scott before he’s cornered by Isaac. He and Scott stick together for most of the night. They stay in the living room, but most people gravitate towards the kitchen. 

Towards the end of the night, Isaac walks into the living room, mid-conversation with Ethan. They sit on one the couches, joining Allison, Scott, Danny and Stiles. Stiles quickly downs the rest of his drink and focuses all of his energy on his conversation with Scott, Danny and Allison rather than the way Isaac’s eyes light up when he talks and the way his curls move around when he nods his head. Soon, a very drunk Lydia saunters in, followed by an even drunker Cora. Stiles sees that Lydia is holding a bottle of cherry vodka, nearly half- empty. She sits in the middle of the floor, patting the ground beside her. “Sit, sit!” she instructs everyone through her drunken laughter. 

They sit, albeit reluctantly, in a circle on the floor. Aiden soon comes in, joining them on the floor. “Ohhhhh kay,” Lydia says. “First, we need to empty the bottle!” she instructs, lifting it to her lips and taking a drink. She passes it around the circle, and everyone but Scott and Ethan take turns drinking from it until it’s empty. 

"Are we playing spin the bottle?" Allison giggles. 

"Kindaaaaa," Lydia says with a smile. "When it lands on a person, everyone has to dare that person to kiss someone else," she explains. 

"I have a girlfriend," Scott notes. 

"I’m gay," Danny says, which gets a round of laughter. 

"No one cares, it’s just little kisses!" Lydia argues. Everyone else, whether it be from the alcohol or the desire to please Lydia, seems to agree, and she spins. It lands on Ethan. "Okay, Ethan’s first," she says. Everyone calls out Danny’s name, which is a little predictable. Ethan leans into the middle of the circle, as does Danny, and they share a short kiss.Everyone cheers, then Ethan spins, and it lands on Cora. 

Stiles freezes, wanting to hear what everyone else thinks. He catches Isaac looking at him, gauging his reaction. Stiles can’t help but notice that Isaac looks like a puppy that’s just been kicked, eyes big and sad as he drops his gaze from Stiles to the ground. Stiles looks away quickly as people begin screaming names. Half the group is yelling Aiden, the other half yelling Isaac. “Cora, choose!” Lydia yells excitedly. 

"Isaac!" Cora says, laughing. She turns to Isaac, who’s sitting right next to her, and leans in. He’s still thinking about Stiles’ eyes watching him, but he also thinks about how Stiles was the one to break up with him, Stiles was the one who wouldn’t give him a chance to talk. What the hell, why not?, he thinks, leaning in to meet Cora’s lips. Seeing as they’re both plastered, they struggle to hold still enough to make contact. Isaac brings his hand up to Cora’s neck, and she opens her mouth, deepening the kiss. Everyone’s hooting and cheering them on as they make out, sitting on Lydia’s floor- except Stiles, that is. When they finally pull away, Cora smiles at Isaac, then spins.

It lands on Lydia and just about everyone screams Stiles’ name. Except Isaac. Isaac says Aiden, but his voice is lost in the crowd. She smiles before scooting into the middle of the circle. Stiles doesn’t know how he feels about kissing her at first. Then, he remembers all of the years he spent pining over Lydia, and he remembers what he just saw Isaac and Cora doing. And he comes to the conclusion that even if he didn’t owe it to his younger self, he would do it just to spite Isaac. So, he does. 

He moves to the middle of the circle and leans in. She presses her lips against his, and he suddenly remembers how great of a kisser she is. He hears everyone cat-calling and cheering, but his drunken head is spinning and he doesn’t want to stop kissing Lydia. Apparently, she doesn’t want to stop either, because it takes Scott and Allison pulling them off of each other to get them apart. Lydia pulls away from Stiles with a laugh, wiping her mouth on her sleeve with a grin. He can’t help but smile at her. 

The game continues for a while until most of the other party guests leave and the house grows quieter and quieter. Lydia puts the empty bottle in the kitchen, and Stiles follows her in. “Stiles! I have a confession to make,” Lydia giggles. “I never knew how much I liked you until recently,” she says. Stiles blinks a few times. Surely he didn’t hear her properly. Did she just say she liked him?

"Uhh?" Stiles manages to ask. He puts a hand on the counter to keep himself from falling over in his drunken stupor. 

"You… you were always there, just in case I needed you!" Lydia says, eyes bright. "When I got with Aiden, you sort of disappeared from my side and I realized how much I missed having you there," she frowns.

Stiles is confused. “Are you saying you liked having me as a back uuuuuup?” he asks, drawing out the last word. 

"Noooo!" Lydia cackles. "I liked having you in my life," she says, placing her pointer finger on his nose. "I want you in my life," she adds. Stiles doesn’t know what to say, or what to even think. So he just does, instead. He leans down and kisses her, long and lingering, before pulling away. Both of their eyes stay closed as they break the kiss, trying to process what’s going on. 

Isaac, damn his timing, walks by the kitchen only to see Stiles and Lydia kissing against the counter. Frustrated, regretful and absolutely wasted, he lets Ethan give him a ride back to Scott’s house. Shortly after Isaac gets back, Scott and Stiles come into the McCall’s house. Isaac hears their voices from downstairs as he tries to brush the taste of the alcohol out of his mouth. “So are you a thing?” Scott asks. 

"I duuuuuuuunno," Stiles says, sing-songy. He laughs, a sound Isaac desperately misses. "She’s cuuuuuute," Stiles adds. 

Scott laughs. “Go to bed, Stiles. You’re drunk.”

"Lydia and I are going out tomorrow," Stiles offers proudly.

"Is that so?" Scott asks. 

"Mmmmm-hmm. She’s taking me to a party in Cedar Grove!" Stiles says excitedly. 

"Cedar Grove? Rich kid central," Scott laughs. Stiles says something in return, which Isaac can’t make out. He doesn’t care at this point. He storms into the guest room, shuts off the light, and crawls into bed. He wants to cry. Wants to scream. Wants to run downstairs and beg Stiles to hear his apology. Instead, he falls asleep feeling lonelier than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this chapter is going to be split into two. it makes more sense that way, so bear with me please!


	9. Chapter Nine

\---  
"i don’t want to steal you away, or make you change the things that you believe"  
\---

Two weeks later, Stiles and Lydia are still hooking up. They haven’t officially told anyone they’re a couple, but almost everyone knows they’re not-so-secretly a thing. Everyone else seems to be supportive of Stiles and Lydia- leaving them alone together with eyebrow raises and small grins every chance they get. Isaac has kept to himself about it- not like there’s anyone he can tell about how he’s feeling, even if he were able to articulate it.

In true Lydia fashion, she decides to have another party to celebrate the end of midterms. Come the day of the party, the pit that’s been in Isaac’s stomach or the past two weeks has grown to mammoth proportions. It was his turn to DD, so it’s not like he could back out, as Scott reminded him when he tried to bail. 

By the time Stiles, Isaac and Scott get to Lydia’s, Isaac is ready to throw up. He doesn’t want to be at the party in the first place, but having to spend the whole car ride listening to Stiles talking about the different places he and Lydia have hooked up has him ready to explode. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it just to get under Isaac’s skin or if he genuinely wants the other boys to know about the time they got caught in the chem room after school. Knowing Stiles, Isaac assumes it’s a little bit of both. 

Lydia greets them at the door. She ushers Isaac and Scott inside, but steps out onto the porch with Stiles, closing the door behind them. Scott goes off to find Allison, but Isaac lingers by the front of the house, trying to hear what Stiles and Lydia are saying over the loud music. 

Not too much to his surprise, when he listens in he doesn’t hear talking. Quiet laughing and heavy breathing, yes. Talking, no. “Can we talk?” Lydia asks after a few seconds.

Isaac is nothing short of intrigued. Cora, however, walks in right then, and comes up to Isaac. She starts talking about something, but Isaac is only half paying attention. The door opens again, this time Stiles leading Lydia inside by the hand and walking right past them. Suddenly filled with a weird combination of rage and hurt, Isaac takes a deep breath before excusing himself and going in the direction that Scott went, trying to forget about Stiles. 

Not even a half hour later, Stiles is completely drunk. Isaac sees him in the corner of the kitchen with Lydia, of course, and can’t figure out if he’s more jealous of Lydia or the drink in Stiles’ hand.

"Isaac?" Cora asks, getting his attention.

"Yeah, hey, sorry," Isaac says, looking away from Stiles. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Isaac lies. He looks back at Stiles and Lydia quickly, and sees that she looks upset about something.. 

"You were just, like, zoned out," Cora says. 

"I’m good," Isaac replies. Emphasis on ‘lies.’

"Want a drink?" she asks, gesturing to the table of bottles on the other side of the kitchen. Isaac shakes his head, holding up his keys. Cora nods in understanding. 

"Isaac!" Danny yells from across the room. Isaac looks up.

"Go talk to Danny. I am gonna go get drunk," Cora says with a laugh, walking towards the table. 

"Hey, man, what’s up?" Isaac says as Danny weaves through a few people to get to him.

"You and Stiles?" he asks, nodding in the direction of Lydia and Stiles. Isaac just shakes his head. 

"But Lydia and Stiles… still?" 

Isaac nods. Danny’s eyes widen. “I thought that was just a one time thing,” Danny says. 

"I wish," Isaac admits. It feels weird to speak the truth about his feelings on the situation, but Isaac knows he can trust Danny. 

"Win him back!" Danny says, nudging Isaac in Stiles’ direction. Isaac shakes his head. 

"Nooooo way. Too sober for that."

"Liquid courage?" Danny suggests, pointing to the table of drinks. Isaac shakes his head again. 

"Driving," he says. 

"Same here. So I’ll drop you guys back at Scott’s on my way home, then," Danny says, turning around and grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shot glass off of the table. "No use in having two DDs," he adds, offering it to Isaac. 

Isaac isn’t sure what to do. “I don’t know what Scott-“

"Scott doesn’t own you! And you know he’s not the kind of guy to stop anyone else from having fun at his expense. If you want to party, party and let me drive you guys home. But more importantly, go get your man back!" Danny says with a laugh. 

Isaac looks over at the corner and sees Lydia still talking to a very confused-looking Stiles. “You know what, fuck it. You’re right,” Isaac says, taking the drink from Danny. He hands over the keys to Scott’s car and raises the shot glass in the air

"You gonna talk to Stiles?" Danny asks, pocketing the keys as Isaac downs the shot.

"Maybe," Isaac says truthfully, refilling the shot glass. 

"You should."

"He’s with Lydia. And he made it clear he didn’t want to be with me anymore. You know, after I cheated on him," Isaac says, regretting the words almost as soon as they cross his lips. He quickly downs the double shot of vodka, hoping it will somehow wash away the taste of the words he just spoke. 

"What? What the hell happened?" Danny asks. Isaac inhales, debating over if he should tell Danny or not. Danny makes Isaac a drink, waiting for his response.

"We had a fight and he said some things that really hurt, so I left. I went to Derek’s but Cora was there alone," Isaac begins. He takes a sip, grimacing at how strong it is.

"You didn’t," Danny interrupts. 

Isaac nods. “Stiles walked in on us hooking up.”

"Isaac," Danny scolds. 

"I know, I know. I was so mad and I was drunk and he had hurt me. And I know that’s not an excuse and I know I was in the wrong, but still. He said he was done, and I have to respect that."

"Do you love him?" Danny asks. Isaac almost chokes on his drink. "Well, do you?" 

"Goodbye, Danny," Isaac says, grabbing a shot off of the table, throwing it down, and turning around. Danny laughs as Isaac walks away, weaving through throngs of people. He’s pleased when he sees Isaac grab Stiles by the wrist and pull him aside. 

Isaac can feel the alcohol starting to make his fingers tingle and his muscles relax. “What are you doing?” Stiles asks, although he willingly follows Isaac. 

"I want to talk," Isaac says, leading Stiles out of the kitchen. Stiles nods, and doesn’t struggle out of Isaac’s grip on his wrist. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe the fight he just had with Lydia, but Stiles is oddly comforted by Isaac’s touch. 

"What about? Did you hear?" Stiles asks when they’re away from the noise.

"Hear what?" Isaac asks.

"What Lydia said to me," Stiles replies.

"No. Why?"

"Never mind."

"What did she say?" Isaac presses. 

"Nothing. It’s not important," Stiles replies. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you. Why can’t I talk to you without having a reason?" Isaac asks.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that," Stiles says. 

"Yeah, you did." 

"Isaac-" Stiles begins, looking down at the floor. 

"I’m sorry," Isaac says. "I’m sorry, okay? I am. For everything. And this- what’ I’m about to say- isn’t an excuse, it’s something I want you to know."

"Okay," Stiles says, looking up. 

"The things that you said to me the night we had that fight, Stiles…. I never thought you would hurt me like that," Isaac admits. "I thought you knew me better than to say something like that."

"I’m not doing this-" Stiles protests. 

"Yes, you are."

"Not here," Stiles says, taking Isaac by the wrist and leading him back through the party and up the stairs. He leads him into one of the (thankfully, empty) bedrooms and closes the door behind them. It’s much quieter up in the solitude of the bedroom, which is good because they can hear each other, but at the same time, bad because there’s no way to make a quick exit smoothly. 

"Can I talk now?" Isaac asks, pacing the floor. Stiles nods. 

"I was saying- I thought, at first, you knew me better than to say something like that to me. Then, I realized that maybe you know me better than anyone, because you knew exactly what to say to hurt me like no one has in a while,” Isaac says. 

"You hurt me, too, Isaac. This isn’t a one way street!" Stiles argues. 

"No, it’s not. But as soon as you were hurt you left," Isaac says. 

"So did you. That’s why I found you at Derek’s, cheating on me."

"Technically, true. But that’s not what I mean. I left your house. You left our relationship. You ended it on the spot, without giving me a chance to apologize or explain!" Isaac argues. "You hurt me and I didn’t break up with you," he adds. 

"You might as well have," Stiles says. "You’re not the only one who’s hurt, Isaac.And you know what the worst part of it is? I still can’t go a day without thinking about how much I miss you!" Stiles sounds angry. "And watching you kiss Cora again? That hurt almost as much as the first time."

"How do you think I feel? Watching you run around with Lydia?" Isaac yells back. 

"You can’t stand to see me happy? Is that it?" Stiles asks. 

"No, I can’t! I still fucking love you!" Isaac yells, before realizing his words. He wishes he could reach into the air and grab them before they can reach Stiles’ ears. They’d never said it to each other, even though Isaac had planned to the day of their big fight. "Fuck, I’m sorry," Isaac says. "I shouldn’t have-"

"I still love you," Stiles says. "I was going to tell you I did that night," he admits. "But we had that fight. I went to Derek’s to find you so I could apologize and tell you- that’s what made it even worse."

Isaac doesn’t know what to say. “You still love me?” he asks. 

"Of course I do!" Stiles practically yells. He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but he grabs Isaac’s waist and pulls him closer. The kiss is electric.

Their lips crash together quickly, both of them struggling for dominance over the other. Isaac wins, mostly because of the sheer size difference. He backs Stiles against the closed door, running his hands up the smaller boy’s sides as Stiles tangles his fingers in Isaac’s curls. 

Isaac suddenly pulls away.

"Hmm?" Stiles hums, moving his mouth to Isaac’s neck. He runs his lips over the pale skin as Isaac tries to get his bearings. 

"We shouldn’t," Isaac says, putting his hands on Stiles’ hips, attempting to create distance between the two of them. 

"S’fine," Stiles says, kissing a line from Isaac’s jaw to his collarbone.

"No, Stiles," Isaac says, using all of his self restraint to step away from Stiles. "You’re with Lydia."

Stiles says something quickly under his breath that Isaac doesn’t cartch.

"What?" Isaac asks. 

"Nothing. It’s fine, though."

Isaac wants to let it go there, and go back to kissing Stiles. But he wants to at least try being a good person. “No, you’re with Lydia. I don’t want to steal you away from her or anything. You- you don’t believe in cheating. Not that I do, but I’ve been the cheater, and it sucks just as bad. I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you go against what you believe-“

"Lydia and I are done. She’s getting back together with Aiden," Stiles says. "But thank you." 

"Oh," Isaac says. He isn’t sure what else to say besides that. Not like it would be appropriate for him to throw his fist in the air, John Bender style. 

"Yeah. So, uh, it’s okay."

"Am I your rebound?" Isaac teases. 

"Of course not," Stiles responds seriously. "I love you, and I know better than to love the rebound."

Isaac leans down, meeting Stiles’ lips with his own. Stiles tastes like cheap beer, and Isaac like cheerwine and vodka, but they can’t get enough. Stiles pushes Isaac backwards, their lips still locked as they stumble across the room and towards the bed. Isaac pushes Stiles’ shirt up to his armpits quickly.

Stiles lifts his arms, allowing Isaac to pull the shirt off before he falls back onto the bed, pulling Isaac down on top of him. He laughs as he bounces back up an inch of two as a result of the force on the mattress, his body flush against Isaac’s. 

Isaac kneels, knees straddling Stiles’ thighs. He quickly sheds his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere onto the floor. Stiles pulls Isaac down by the neck, flipping them over so Isaac’s back is against the mattress. “Someone’s coming,” Isaac breathes against Stiles’ jaw.

"It’s probably nothing," Stiles says, bringing his lips to Isaac’s again. Just as their lips meet, the door flies open.


End file.
